


Go Away, Scott

by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Alpha Derek, Alpha Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, M/M, Mates, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Minor Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Pack Feels, Panic Attacks, Post-Season/Series 02, Rebuilt Hale House, Resurrection, Scott McCall is a Bad Friend, Sharing a Bed, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Werewolves, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Gets Bitten, The Alpha Pack, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-26
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-01-23 15:12:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 66,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12510220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere/pseuds/HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere
Summary: After the incident at the warehouse, Stiles is fed up with Scott.  He finds himself drawn into Derek’s pack and in the process, drawn to Derek himself.With the Alpha Pack closing in, Derek needs to learn how to trust his pack and those around him.  And who better to help him than Stiles?





	1. I did notice

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Go Away, Scott (Traducción)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14877989) by [yuki_yuki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuki_yuki/pseuds/yuki_yuki)



“Go away, Scott.”

Stiles steadfastly ignored the insistent tapping on his window, and curled further into the warm, comfy blanket burrito on his bed. Only when the tapping got louder did Stiles turn around, determined to get his best friend to go away and leave him alone.

“I said –” His admonition got lost in his throat when his eyes met Derek’s through his window.

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Derek quirked an eyebrow in annoyance.

“Oh!” Stiles exclaimed, falling out of his bed in his haste to stand up.

He righted himself and loped over to the window, only pausing briefly before opening it.

“What are you doing here?” He asked Derek with a frown. 

Derek just pursed his lips and stepped into the room, smoothing down his leather jacket imperiously.

“Look,” Stiles started, just as Derek had opened his mouth to speak. Stiles stopped and waited to see if Derek would continue.

He did. “Why did you tell me to go away?”

Stiles shrugged. “Thought you were Scott.”

Derek smirked a little before schooling his face back to passivity. “Why would you be telling Scott to go away?”

“This can’t be why you came,” sniped Stiles in irritation.

After sighing like it took all the strength in his (fairly considerable) arsenal to say what he was about to, Derek asked, “Are you ok?”

The sarcastic reply Stiles had prepared never came out. Instead, the boy just slumped in exhaustion and walked back towards his bed.

Stiles sat with a weary sigh of his own and thought about how to respond.

“Sit down,” was what came out of his mouth, surprising them both.

Stiles chucked at the supreme discomfort on Derek’s face as the wolf crossed the room and sat down on Stiles’ computer chair. He was sitting ramrod straight, as if he was prepared to bolt at a moment’s notice.

It made Stiles a little sad to think that was probably how Derek lived his whole life since the fire. 

He shook his head. That was an issue for another day.

Running his hand over his ever-lengthening buzz cut, Stiles grimaced. “No, I’m not,” he admitted. “I’m 100 kinds of not ok. I was kidnapped and beaten by Murder Grandpa, which no one seemed to notice by the way. I just had to watch the love of my life express her undying love for Jackson Whittemore, of all people, to save him from staying a lizard man forever. Then I had to watch my best friend traipse off with a hunter who has tried to kill pretty much all of us at this point. I got my dad suspended and even though he’s back at work now, there’s still this… distrust between us that’s driving me crazy because I can’t tell him about the werewolves and the kanima and your crazy uncle –”

“Stiles, breathe.” 

Stiles hadn’t realized he was panicking until he looked up from his hands in his lap to find Derek crouched in front of him, wearing a look that was suspiciously close to concern.

He took a few deep breaths and shook his head. “No, I’m not ok,” he concluded lamely.

Derek nodded once and stood up to full height. He turned to leave the same way he came in, but stopped at the sound of Stiles’ voice.

“Are you?” he asked Derek. “Ok, I mean.”

Derek frowned in confusion and looked himself up and down pointedly. “I’m fine, Stiles.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean physically. I just… I know how much it means to you. The bite,” he elaborated when Derek quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry Scott forced you to give it to Gerard. He never should have done that.”

The wolf just shook his head. “It’s fine, it doesn’t matter.” Derek moved closer to the window as he spoke, but stopped just before leaping out. “I, uh. I did notice,” he paused awkwardly, as if it physically pained him to continue. “When Gerard took you.”

Stiles eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. “Oh,” he offered. “Well… thanks, I guess?”

Derek gave him a short nod in reply. With one leg out the window, he swiveled to look at Stiles one last time. “Boyd and Erica made it back, by the way. They – they said you helped them. Or tried to, at least.”

Stiles looked up at Derek’s face, barely containing his surprise at the vulnerability reflected in the Alpha’s eyes. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, so quietly that Stiles would have missed it had he not been staring straight at him.

Derek was gone before Stiles could respond. Once he was alone, Stiles realized just how exhausted he was. Before he could overanalyze everything that had just happened, he fell back onto his bed with a soft thump and closed his eyes, falling asleep immediately. 

When he woke up, he wasn’t alone. 

At some point during the night, Erica and Boyd had made their way into his room and had fallen asleep on either side of him. Boyd had his head pillowed on top of Stiles’ chest, and Erica had nuzzled her way under his arm, limbs thrown over Stiles’.

He cocked his head to the side and leaned towards Erica. “Hey, Catwoman,” he whispered. “Not that I mind, but can you tell me why I just woke up as the filling in a beta sandwich?”

Erica opened one sleepy eye and shook her head before nuzzling further under Stiles arm.

Resigning himself to his fate, Stiles closed his eyes, determined to get at least another hour of sleep before he had to be up for school.

Less than an hour later, he was awoken again, this time by his dad’s pointed cough. Stiles’ eyes snapped open and immediately shot to his father, who was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

The Sheriff’s face gave away nothing about how he was feeling to have found his son in such an interesting position. The only hint Stiles had was his dad’s raised eyebrows, but those could mean anything.

“I didn’t realize you planned on having visitors last night, Stiles,” he said evenly.

Stiles cleared his throat and winced when it still came out scratchy. “Yeah, um, well you see –”

“Breakfast in ten,” his dad mercifully cut him off. “Make sure your friends are properly dressed.” He looked pointedly away from Erica and pushed the door a little more so it was wide open, before heading downstairs to start making breakfast.

Stiles looked around to see what had caused his dad to – oh, Erica wasn’t wearing pants. Of course not. And, yup, that was Stiles’ shirt. 

Boyd was at least wearing a shirt and boxers, but that was only a small consolation. 

“Quit pretending you didn’t hear all of that and get up,” he griped at the two wolves feigning sleep.

Erica opened her eyes with a far-too-innocent grin, while Boyd just rolled out of bed and landed on his feet in a move so smooth that Stiles couldn’t hope to successfully pull it off in his wildest dreams.

Boyd walked over to Stiles’ dresser and started pulling out clothes for Stiles and Erica, having brought a spare shirt for himself when he and Erica decided to invade Stiles’ bed the night before.

It should have felt more intrusive, having a classmate he hardly knew rooting through his things, while another classmate he hardly knew was undressing and redressing shamelessly next to him, but Stiles felt oddly comforted by it. 

The three were met in the kitchen by the Sheriff, who was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. He didn’t say a word, just gestured to the pancakes and bacon spread out in front of him and went back to reading with a flourish.

Stiles squinted at him doubtfully, but decided to wait it out. Two could play that game, and he knew his dad was curious as hell about what had happened the night before. 

So he sat next to his dad, letting Erica and Boyd have the two seats furthest from him, and dug in. 

They followed his lead and piled their plates high. The Sheriff didn’t know they were werewolves, of course, so they exercised some restraint and didn’t eat everything in sight.

When Boyd got up to help himself to some coffee and found the mugs on the first try, and Erica was able to find the trash can hidden behind the fridge without looking for it, John set his paper down with a sigh. “Do you two stay over often when I’m at work?”

Since Stiles was the innocent party in this situation, he decided to sit back and let Erica and Boyd take the brunt of the interrogation that followed. It was the hardest five minutes of his life, not talking, but he managed to both not talk, and not laugh. 

He should get a damn trophy.

After a few minutes of “yes, sir,” and “no, sir,” the Sheriff took pity on the two of them and paused to take a long sip of coffee.

Boyd – sweet, wonderful Boyd – took advantage of the brief respite to ask a tentative question of his own. “Sir, how do you get your pancakes so fluffy?”

Stiles wasn’t sure if it was the shock of the question, or the earnestness in Boyd’s eyes, but his dad’s resolve broke and he spent the next few minutes showing Boyd how to make the perfect pancake.

Stiles noticed Erica’s soft glances at Boyd throughout the tutorial, and nudged her gently under the table. He looked at Boyd pointedly and raised his eyebrows with a grin.

Erica leveled him with a glare, but growled playfully, so Stiles figured he wasn’t in any immediate danger.

When Boyd and Erica volunteered to do the dishes, John took the opportunity to pull Stiles gently into the living room, not knowing that they would be overheard anyway.

“Look, they seem like nice kids,” he began.

“They are,” Stiles insisted. 

His dad sent him an exasperated glare at the interruption, but his lips quirked up when Stiles mimed locking his mouth shut and throwing away the key.

“But, I just want to make sure you’re being safe and responsible.”

Stiles’ eyes went wide and he immediately started miming looking around wildly for something. Used to his son’s antics, John rolled his eyes and put his hand in his pocket. He pulled out nothing and opened his palm. Stiles made a big show of sighing with relief before grabbing the air above his dad’s palm and miming unlocking his mouth with the newfound key. 

“Listen, dad, as flattered as I am that you think I could land two of the best looking kids at school, I promise you nothing is going on.” He looked at his dad imploringly.

His dad squinted suspiciously, but conceded that Stiles was probably telling the truth. “So they slept over last night…”

“Because they heard I’d been beaten up. By the other team, you know? So they wanted to make sure I was ok. And the next thing we knew, it was too late for them to go home, so we just crashed. I’m sorry, I should have told you.” Stiles hung his head and tried to ignore the pit in his stomach from using his injuries as an excuse to prey on his dad’s paternal instincts.

Clearly it worked, because his dad swept him up into a bear hug before releasing him gently and grabbing his shoulder. “Alright. Just next time, let me know, will you?”

Stiles nodded enthusiastically and rounded up the betas so they wouldn’t be late for school.


	2. A pack thing

“So why did you guys come over last night?” he asked them once they were all situated in the jeep – which was mercifully still working after having been driven through the side of a warehouse.

Erica and Boyd exchanged glances before Boyd responded. “We were actually following Derek’s scent. After Chris Argent let us go, we went back to the train depot, but we got a little restless after Derek left.”

“So we figured we’d follow his scent and make sure he was ok, but that led us to you,” Erica finished. 

Stiles furrowed his brow, still confused. “Ok, so then why did you stay once you realized Derek wasn’t there?”

The two shrugged in unison. “It’s a pack thing,” Erica dismissed airily with the wave of her hand.

Boyd nodded. “Yeah, your scent was comforting too. Plus, you had a bed.”

The whole conversation left Stiles with more questions than he had before, but he shrugged it off and pulled into the parking lot, shaking his head at what his life had become.

Stiles couldn’t deny that it felt good to enter the school with people around him, not just Scott. It wasn’t that he didn’t have friends – well, yeah it kind of was. He wasn’t popular. But he and Scott had each other, and that had been good enough for both of them for a while.

With Boyd on his left and Erica on his right, something settled in Stiles’ stomach and he felt content. Even more so after Boyd flung his arm around Stiles’ shoulder briefly and Erica grabbed his arm and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

Before Stiles could even look confused, the two were off, heading to their first class together.

Of course. Scent marking – he’d read about that when Scott had first been bitten. But wasn’t that something usually done in packs? He wasn’t part of the pack, was he? Definitely not, if Derek had any say in the matter. And as the Alpha, he did.

Stiles definitely needed to research that more later. 

But for now, Chemistry.

He entered the room and looked hesitantly at his usual seat at the lab table with Scott. He stutter-stepped before veering off to sit in the back next to Isaac instead. Stiles kept his head down as he walked, not wanting to subject himself to Scott’s puppy dog eyes.

Isaac raised an eyebrow – something Derek had clearly taught him in Werewolf 101 – but said nothing about Stiles’ seating choice.

About fifteen minutes into the lab, Isaac leaned into Stiles’ space and sniffed. “Why do you smell like the pack?” 

Stiles, whose nose had been practically in his textbook, sat up with a jolt. “Huh? What?” He realized that Isaac had said and relaxed a bit. “Oh, Erica and Boyd stayed over last night.” He looked at Scott while he said it, to see if he was listening.

Sure enough, Scott’s back went rigid and he turned his head to look at Stiles in confusion.

Isaac cocked his head to the side. “But you smell like Derek, too.”

“Ah,” replied Stiles eloquently, scratching the back of his neck. “He came by before they got there. He just wanted to see if I was ok.”

And while this answer still did not make sense to Stiles, Isaac had just accepted it with a small nod and got back to the lesson.

When the bell rang, Stiles hurried out the door with Isaac, determined to put at least a few people between him and Scott.

“So, how are you doing after everything?” he asked the young wolf quietly in the hallway.

They stopped at Isaac’s locker and he hummed, fumbling with the lock. “I’m ok, I guess. Glad that Erica and Boyd are back.”

Stiles lowered his voice. “But what about the, you know…” he mimed stabbing a few times before dropping his hand lamely.

Isaac snorted at the hand gestures and draped his arm around Stiles’ shoulder nonchalantly. “I’m fine, you nerd.” He dropped his arm when a scent hit him.

Following Isaac’s intense gaze to the front door, Stiles was astonished to see Jackson and Lydia waltz in, hand-in-hand, as if they owned the place.

“Jackson?” blurted Stiles incredulously.

The boy in question barely spared him a glance as he and Lydia strode by them.

Lydia gave him a quick, grateful nod, before donning her practiced imperious look and tightening her grip on Jackson’s hand.

“Did you know he was going to be at school today?” Stiles asked Isaac with a frown.

When Isaac shook his head, Stiles pulled out his phone. “We should tell Derek.”

“Tell Derek what?” came Scott’s voice from behind him. 

Stiles jumped slightly, but thankfully managed to maintain a grip on his phone. He shot off a ‘lizard wolf at school today, just fyi’ text to Derek and reluctantly looked up at Scott as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“Didn’t you just see Jackson walk in?” asked Stiles, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, of course. But why would Derek care about that? I mean, Jackson’s not going crazy and killing people anymore, so why would Derek need to know where he was…” He trailed off as if his argument made all the sense in the world.

Stiles looked at Isaac to see if he had just heard what Stiles had just heard. Looking back at Scott, all the anger from the past few days rose like bile in his throat. 

He opened his mouth to tell Scott off, but was stopped by Isaac stepping in front of him. “Because Jackson’s his beta, Scott. And that’s what packs do. We look out for each other. Derek bit him, so he’s technically Jackson’s Alpha.”

“But Derek hates Jackson,” Scott countered with furrowed brows.

Isaac just shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. He’s pack.”

With a huff, Scott opened his mouth to reply, but was distracted when he picked up a scent nearby. “Allison,” he whispered under his breath and he shot off in the direction of the scent.

Stiles and Isaac exchanged an exasperated glance and started walking towards their next class.

Isaac was eyeing Stiles curiously, clearly wondering why Stiles looked and smelled like anger.

Before he could stay anything, there was a buzz as Derek replied to Stiles’ text, prompting Stiles to fish his phone out of his pocket while pulling Isaac to a stop outside the classroom.

‘I know, I’m here too’ was his reply. Isaac made a face to indicate that he wasn’t surprised at all and continued to read the texts from over Stiles’ shoulder. 

“What?” Stiles exclaimed out loud. “Where?”

Before he had time to text Derek back, his phone buzzed again.

‘Everywhere,’ it said.

Stiles huffed a laugh and shook his head. 

‘Creeperwolf,’ he sent back before following Isaac into class.

The rest of the day passed quickly and before Stiles knew it, he once again found himself in a car full of beta werewolves. 

He looked in his rear view mirror at Erica and Boyd and opened his mouth to ask them where he was taking them. Before he could make a sound, his passenger door opened and Isaac climbed inside.

“What’s going on? Why are you guys acting like this is normal?” Stiles threw his hands up and started the car, not really expecting an answer. 

“You’re injured,” Erica replied with a shrug, as if that answered either of Stiles’ questions. She leaned forward and poked at his split lip as if to remind him it was there.

He leveled her with a glare through the mirror and swatted her hand away. “So this is a pity thing? You feel bad for me, so you’re hanging out with me?”

Stiles felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of that being true. He had kind of enjoyed spending time with the three of them throughout the day.

Isaac rolled his eyes and shoved Stiles’ shoulder. “No, you idiot. It’s a pack thing.”

“You keep saying that. I’m not pack, though,” Stiles insisted with a confused frown. “Am I?”

Isaac held his hands up innocently. “You’ll have to take that up with Derek.”

Huffing in frustration, Stiles started driving to the train depot. 

“Hale house,” Boyd grunted from the back seat. “We’re training at the Hale house today.”

Stiles shifted course without a word and took them to the house ruins in the Preserve.

He pulled up to let the betas out, following at a more sedate pace through the front door. He was met at the bottom of the stairs by a frowning Derek, whose crossed arms were forcing his biceps to bulge menacingly.

Stiles swallowed involuntarily.

“What are you doing here?” Derek asked in a flat voice.

Erica, Boyd, and Isaac ignored the two and took off into a leisurely run out the door, warming up for their training.

Stiles quirked an annoyed eyebrow. “I don’t know, Derek, why don’t you tell me? I woke up this morning with Boyd and Erica in my bed, and then the two of them and Isaac just got in my car at the end of the day and told me to bring them here. If you don’t want me here, maybe try controlling your kids, huh?”

Derek pursed his lips. “They’re not my kids, Stiles –”

“Puppies, then,” Stiles interrupted stubbornly under his breath.

Derek flashed his eyes and growled lowly in annoyance.

Stiles took a step forward and poked Derek in the chest. “Oh, no you don’t. You don’t get to growl at me. You come into my room and act all ‘Hale nice,’ then your betas sleep in my bed and scent mark me at school and –”

“Hale nice?” Derek repeated incredulously.

Stiles dropped his hand, momentarily sidetracked from his rant. “Oh, yeah. That’s just kind of what I call it in my head. It’s like your version of nice. You know… good intentions, spotty execution?”

Derek looked like he didn’t quite know what to do with that information, so he shook his head and moved on. “I’ll talk to them about the scent marking thing. Now, go home.”

Stiles let his head fall back in exasperation for a moment before meeting Derek’s eyes. “So not the point. Am I pack?” he asked bluntly.

Derek’s face softened for a few seconds before schooling itself into a blank mask. “Do you want to be?” he asked without inflection.

Stiles bit the not-split part his lip and looked away, missing how Derek’s eyes tracked the movement of his mouth.

After a few seconds, Stiles replied, “Do you want me to be?”

Derek let his hands drop and stood up to full height stiffly. “Packs are stronger with more people,” he hedged.

“That’s not an answer.” Stiles squinted, trying to get a read off of Derek. After a few more seconds of silence, he spoke again. “Ok, how about this? I join your pack, but only provisionally.”

Derek cocked his head in annoyance. “What does that even mean?”

“Well, I don’t fully trust your betas. I mean, Erica knocked me out with my own car part, and all three of them were on board to kill Lydia when you guys thought she was the kanima. And sure, since then they haven’t really done anything devious, but I truly believe that actions speak louder than words and even though I haven’t actually heard any of them express and guilt or anything over any of that, I also –”

“Stiles,” Derek cut in sharply. “What’s your point?”

Stiles took a deep breath. “Why don’t we try it for a month and see how it goes? Can we do that?”

Derek looked at him warily, but nodded once. “Fine. A month.”

With that, he turned around and walked up the stairs, clearly dismissing Stiles.


	3. For now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Panic Attack

Logically, Stiles knew that the betas didn’t need him to drive them back to the depot after training, but he was fully prepared to use that as an excuse for why he chose to stay and watch. Stiles walked out to the burnt front porch and sat down on the top stair, opening his backpack and taking out his homework.

Stiles knew Derek could hear him, so he didn’t pay him much mind when the wolf made a show of looking annoyed to see him a few minutes later when Derek descended the porch steps.

“What are you still doing here?”

Stiles smiled at him innocently. “Well, it’s pack training time, right? And I’m pack for a month, so I should be here, right?”

Derek grinned back, letting his fangs slide down. “You want to train like the pack does? That can be arranged.”

Suddenly, the image of Peter’s teeth hovering over his wrist sent Stiles into a panic. His textbook slid off his lap as his legs pushed him along the deck until his back hit the front door. 

He could hear the betas calling out to him, asking him what was wrong, but all he could focus on was the blood rushing in his ears. 

Stiles felt strong hands grip his shoulders and manhandle him until his back was against a firm chest. He felt a rumbling coming from the chest that startled him enough to look up to see who was holding him.

Derek. 

His eyes were Alpha red and his mouth formed a thin line.

Stiles closed his eyes and focused on the vibrations of Derek’s rumbling, working hard to match his breathing with that of the man holding him.

He vaguely heard Derek dismiss his betas, telling them to take the keys to the Camero and wait for him at the depot. 

Stiles leaned over and put his head between his knees with Derek’s arms still gripping him from behind. When he picked his head up, he realized that at some point, Derek had adjusted them so that he was sitting in between Derek’s legs, leaning back into his chest.

As his breathing went back to normal, Stiles wondered if he should feel more uncomfortable about the position they were in.

The rumbling stopped when Stiles’ heart rate slowed to its normal pace, but Derek didn’t relinquish his grip on Stiles’ chest.

“I’m sorry,” Derek offered stiltedly. “I forgot what it was like to have a human in the pack who isn’t used to werewolves. I shouldn’t have flashed my fangs at you.”

Stiles brought his hand up to grip Derek’s forearm instinctively. “No,” he said firmly. “That’s not what triggered what just happened.” 

He could almost feel Derek’s frown. “Then what did?”

Stiles cleared his throat. “Peter.”

Derek ducked his head around Stiles’ shoulder to catch a glimpse of the boy’s face. “Peter?”

Stiles let his eyes find Derek’s and nodded. “He – he offered me the bite once.”

Derek’s grip on Stiles tightened, but instead of feeling constricted, Stiles found it comforting.

“I didn’t know that,” Derek conceded softly. “Why – nevermind.”

“Why didn’t I take it?” Stiles finished wryly. “I don’t want to be a werewolf, Derek. I mean, I wouldn’t hate the speed or the healing powers, but I’m just… I’m ok with being human.”

Derek relinquished his grip on Stiles and leaned back, not breaking contact completely. “For now?” he asked at a whisper.

Stiles sighed and nodded. “For now.”

He turned his torso to get a better look at the wolf and saw conflicting emotions on Derek’s face. His eyes had lost their Alpha red and were pointedly looking everywhere but at Stiles.

“Hey, what is it, big guy?” Stiles asked.

Derek cleared his throat and met Stiles’ eyes. “I would never bite you without your permission.”

To Derek’s surprise, Stiles chuckled. He waved his hand in classic spastic Stiles fashion, nearly tipping over when the nonchalant movement gained momentum he hadn’t been expecting. “I know you wouldn’t. I may not trust your betas, Derek, but I do trust you.”

Derek’s eyes left Stiles’ and looked around for something, anything, else. He coughed and stood up, breaking his contact with Stiles. “You should go home,” he said firmly. “We can start your training tomorrow.”

Stiles nodded sadly, not at all surprised by Derek’s response. He rose to his feet and for a second, thought Derek was leaning forward to help him, but he pulled back at the last second and crossed his arms instead.

With a wave, Stiles piled his stuff into his car and went home. 

Scott was hovering in Stiles’ front yard when he pulled the jeep into the driveway. With a resigned sigh, Stiles opened the door and walked towards the house, hoping in vain he could just sidestep his best friend and collapse onto his warm, welcoming couch.

He couldn’t.

Scott stood his ground, stepping in front of Stiles on the front porch and fixing him with the confused puppy dog eyes Stiles had been avoiding since the warehouse incident.

“Why won’t you talk to me? You haven’t been returning any of my texts,” Scott mumbled in a hurt voice.

Stiles sighed again, letting the air leave his body in a frustrated huff. “I just needed some space, Scotty.”

Scott frowned, as if the idea of him and Stiles separating even for a day was unfathomable to him. “Space? What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

The anger Stiles had been trying to hold back rose up again at the indignation in Scott’s voice. “What’s wrong? How about the fact that you tricked Derek into biting Gerard?” He furrowed his brows and dropped his bag to the ground, taking a half step towards Scott.

Scott opened his mouth to argue, but before he could speak, Stiles continued.

“You may not understand it, Scott, but Derek has made it very clear what the bite means to him. It makes someone pack; he sees it as a gift. Even if you don’t agree with him, you have to at least respect his point of view! How could you possibly think it was a good idea to make Derek believe even for a second that he was making Gerard Argent,” he spat the last name in Scott’s direction, “a part of his pack?”

Scott tried to interrupt, but Stiles was on a tangent.

“And even before that, you went out of your way to make it clear that Derek’s opinions and feelings mean nothing to you. And what has he done to deserve that, huh? All he’s ever done is try to look out for you.”

Stiles paused, chest heaving. Scott seemed too stunned to speak.

“Damn it, Scott, even before he knew you, he tried to help you. Think about it. Remember your first full moon? You went crazy and almost hurt Allison? Derek made sure she was safe. He gave her a ride home and even took her jacket so you’d follow her scent far, far away from her. All he knew about her then was that she was an Argent!” he rose his voice imploringly at that, hoping Scott would start to understand the gravity of what he was saying. 

“An Argent. A member of the family that murdered everyone he loved. And he kept her safe to help you.” Stiles shook his head sadly as he turned away from Scott’s shocked face. It didn’t look like he was getting through to him, until –.

“Oh my god,” Scott let out in a puff of air.

Stiles chanced a peek at Scott’s face again and was surprised to find that he looked absolutely gutted. 

“Look, I’m tired, Scott. I don’t want to fight with you. Just… please think about what I’m trying to say, will you?”

“Stiles – ”

“I gotta go,” he cut him off, picking up his bag and turning his back on Scott.

Stiles heard Scott make a choked off noise, like he wanted to say something, but eventually Scott made his way back to his car and drove away.

Stiles hiked his bag up onto his shoulders more securely and opened the door to his house.

Only to find Peter Hale sitting in his living room, beer in hand, watching a baseball game with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning - Stiles has a panic attack at the Hale house after Derek flashes his fangs at him. If you want to skip the panic attack, begin reading when Derek says, "I'm sorry."


	4. Let's have it

Stiles dropped his backpack onto the floor unceremoniously. Before he could get a word out, his father spoke.

“Imagine my surprise when I got home from work and found Peter Hale on my couch,” his dad said, eyes not leaving the television.

Peter smirked at Stiles and took a long swig of his beer, challenging him silently. 

Stiles felt his stomach drop as he realized Peter would have just heard every word of his confrontation with Scott.

“Peter who?” Stiles was never any good at playing dumb, but he needed to kill time until Derek got there. He’d been able to send a text to the Alpha without taking his phone out of his pocket. Hopefully he’d spelled enough words right that Derek would get the picture and come right over.

His dad sighed deeply and put his beer down on the coffee table. “Stiles,” he said warningly. “I’m tired, and the last time anyone saw or heard from Peter Hale, he had just escaped from a long term care facility and was wanted for the murder of his nurse. Can you please tell me why he’s here before I just arrest the both of you?”

Stiles squawked indignantly. “What makes you think I know?”

“Maybe because when I drew my gun on him, he shifted into a werewolf and told me to sit down until you got home to explain further?” 

“You what?!” Stiles yelled at Peter, filling with rage and advancing on him quickly. Peter stood to meet him with mirth in his eyes. He opened his mouth to make what Stiles was sure would have been some cocky remark, but Stiles punched him square in the jaw before the wolf could make a sound.

“Stiles!” His dad cried out, stumbling to his feet in alarm. 

There was a sudden roar from the backyard as the door into the kitchen was ripped open, revealing a shifted and furious Derek.

Stiles backed off, running over to his father and placing himself in between his dad and the angry wolves. He had fully anticipated letting Derek just tear Peter apart, but to his surprise, Peter held up his hands and tilted his neck in a sign of submission.

The act startled Derek to a stop. He didn’t shift back, but he also made no move to approach Peter further. His eyes never left Peter’s neck as he spoke.

“Stiles,” he said, panting heavily. “Are you ok?”

Stiles nodded before realizing Derek couldn’t see him. “Yeah,” he croaked. He took an inventory of his father’s state before adding, “we’re both fine.”

Brows heavily furrowed, Derek approached Peter slowly. Stiles reached out, but was prevented from aiding Derek by his dad’s firm hand on his shoulder.

“Peter?” Derek whispered cautiously. “What are you doing?”

With his neck still exposed, Peter replied with his usual level of sarcasm, “I’m trying to keep us all alive, obviously.”

Derek closed the gap between them and wrapped a clawed hand around his uncle’s throat. Grasping it tightly, he led Peter over to the couch and directed him to sit. His eyes were still unsure of Peter’s motives, but it was clear that Derek wasn’t going to do anything to discourage acts of submission, especially from his uncle.

“Explain,” Derek growled, taking a step back.

Righting himself in the seat, Peter smirked again. “The Alphas are here, Derek, and they’re not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“Alphas?” Stiles repeated, eyebrows making a break for his hairline. “As in, plural?”

Peter nodded, ignoring the warning look from Derek. “A pack of them. Led by a man named Deucalion. They’re here to test Derek, to see if he’s worthy of his new Alpha title.”

“I’m handling it,” Derek cut in roughly.

Peter eyed him drolly. “And how exactly have you been handling it? You bit three misfit kids who are holding on to their pack bonds by a thread, you won’t give me the chance to prove to you that I can be a valuable asset, you’re alienating the only other werewolf in town, and you’re spending most of your nights patrolling Stiles’ house to make sure the Alphas haven’t already gotten to him.” 

He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, the picture of calm. “Tsk tsk, nephew. Not very proactive of you.”

Derek roared and crouched down, prepared to strike. His attack was brought to a screeching halt when Stiles threw himself between the two wolves. 

“Get out of my way, Stiles,” Derek growled, looking past the boy with fire in his eyes.

“No,” replied Stiles coolly. “He’s right, Derek.”

Derek’s eyes snapped to Stiles’, now full of betrayal. “You’re trusting him?!”

Stiles huffed impatiently. “Of course not, but that doesn’t mean he’s wrong. And as much as I appreciate the fact that you’ve apparently taken to stalking my house to make sure I haven’t become Alpha dinner, I think we should try to come up with a plan to prevent that from becoming a problem in the first place.”

Derek straightened up and nodded tersely, shifting his focus to the Sheriff. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. 

Stiles winced as the gesture reminded him of his dad’s presence. “Soooo, Dad, any chance I’m going to get out of this without being grounded for life?”

“No, Stiles,” his dad said, keeping his eyes on Peter and Derek. “I’d say there’s exactly zero chance of that.” He sank into the armchair across from Peter and took a swig of his forgotten beer. “Start at the beginning,” he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Stiles nodded fervently. “I’m going to tell you everything, Dad, I promise. Just… Peter needs to leave first.” He looked towards Peter, who seemed unconcerned with the declaration and was halfway out of his seat when –.

“Peter stays,” John countered, waving at Peter to resume his seat.

Looking infinitely amused with the situation, Peter sat back down and crossed his legs.

“No, Peter needs to leave,” Stiles insisted. “There are parts of this story that are going to make you want to arrest him. Or kill him,” he added with an indifferent shrug.

But the Sheriff stood his ground. “Stiles, Peter’s staying right where he is. I need to hear the whole story and no offense, kid, but I think that’s more likely to happen when three people are telling it rather than two.”

Stiles considered that for a moment. “Ok,” he conceded finally. “Then give me your gun. Your bullets won’t kill Peter, but I can’t imagine shooting him would make him too happy.”

John rolled his eyes, but gave up his weapon without argument.

Stiles sat down next to Peter and blew out a big breath, opening the top drawer of the coffee table and depositing the weapon inside. He looked around for Derek, who had disappeared at some point while Stiles and his father were talking.

Derek came in from the kitchen holding a glass of scotch and handed it to the Sheriff shyly. “Figured you’d need this,” he said stiffly.

John’s eyes went wide with surprise as he took the glass from Derek’s hands. He laughed once, causing Derek’s shoulders to lose some of their tension. “Thanks, son, you’re probably right.”

Derek’s ears turned pink at the Sheriff’s chosen endearment. He walked over to the couch and sat down on the other side of Stiles, so the two Hales were bracketing the boy.

John took a healthy swig and sat back. “Alright, let’s have it.”


	5. That's a yes, then

Stiles stumbled over a few parts of the story, especially concerning the lies he’d had to tell to his dad to keep the supernatural element under wraps.

Derek cut in every so often whenever there was something Stiles didn’t know or understand, or if it looked like Stiles needed a break.

The Sheriff had taken to watching Peter’s reaction to what Stiles and Derek had to say, stopping them every once in a while when Peter scoffed or shook his head so that Peter could tell him a little more about what really happened.

When they were done, after two refills to the Sheriff’s glass, Stiles closed his eyes and braced for yelling. His father wasn’t really a yeller, but Stiles figured that if there was ever a time for it, it was now.

“Well,” said John, leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. “Peter, you should go. Stiles is right; I want to both arrest you and kill you, but I’m not sure I have enough to hold you on without introducing the entire justice system of Beacon Hills to the supernatural, and becoming a murderer is not on my bucket list. Out.”

To Stiles’ surprise, Peter got up and left the house without even a sneer or a smirk. 

The Sheriff was quiet for several minutes after Peter’s departure. Derek and Stiles exchanged wary looks, and Derek appeared to be casing the house for escape routes.

Stiles shot him a glare that he hoped Derek would correctly interpret as ‘don’t you dare,’ and set his mouth in a grim line.

John let out a sharp breath through his nose and ran his hands over his face. Shaking his head, he looked up and met Stiles’ eyes. “Oh, kiddo,” he sighed, standing up and crossing the living room until he was in front of Stiles with his arms outstretched.

Without thinking, Stiles stood and stepped right into his father’s embrace, closing his eyes and resting his chin on his dad’s shoulder.

He felt some of the tension leave his back as his dad tightened his grip, engulfing Stiles fully and squeezing tightly. 

When they separated, the Sheriff surprised everyone by gesturing for Derek to stand up as well, opening his arms and eying the wolf stubbornly. 

Derek sat rooted in his seat, throwing a look of horror in Stiles’ direction.

Stiles hid a smirk behind his hand and looked at Derek expectantly.

Arms still outstretched, John coughed pointedly and raised his eyebrows. “Get in here, son, we hug in this household.”

Once Derek had determined that he wasn’t being tricked, which took a heartbreakingly long time, he stood up cautiously and took a step forward. 

Meeting him more than halfway, John wrapped his arms around Derek and pulled him into a brief hug.

Derek reciprocated hesitantly, but Stiles could see his shoulders slump in resignation after a few seconds.

The Sheriff let Derek choose when to break the hug, not wanting to discourage him or rush him. It was briefer than his hug with Stiles, but still long enough to count as a full bear hug.

John stepped back and pointed a stern finger at the Alpha, who still looked shocked that he had just been hugged. “No more doing things on your own, you hear me?”

Derek opened his mouth to protest, jerking his head back obstinately. 

“Uh-uh,” John interrupted, wagging his finger before pointing it once more. “You’ve been though a lot, to put it mildly, and I know there are holes in the story you aren’t ready to fill in quite yet, but you’re still a kid –”

“I’m not a kid,” Derek mumbled with a frown.

John sighed. “Yeah, that didn’t prove your point the way you thought it would. Anyway, stop acting like a lone wolf.” He paused to accept a high five from a giggling Stiles while Derek groaned and shook his head in defeat.

“I’m serious, Derek. Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is admit that you need help.” The Sheriff’s eyes grew soft as he took in Derek’s tense stance.

Stiles found himself reaching out and placing his hand on Derek’s back. The wolf flinched when the contact startled him, but leaned into the touch.

After a few seconds, Derek’s resolve broke. Instead of a stubborn, lonely Alpha, the Derek in front of the two Stilinski’s more closely resembled a lost, exhausted young man.

Derek didn’t say anything; just hung his head and slumped his shoulders, letting out a weary breath. 

Stiles ducked his head and saw that there were tears forming in Derek’s eyes, but didn’t comment on it.

He looked up at his dad and nodded at Derek, then up the stairs.

His dad smiled and placed a bracing hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Son, do your – betas?” He looked to Stiles to confirm the use of the word. After Stiles’ nod, the Sheriff continued. “Do they have a place to stay tonight? Somewhere that isn’t on the County’s ‘to be condemned’ list?”

Derek nodded sadly. Stiles could see the beginnings of a confused frown forming on his face.

“Then you’ll be staying here for the night,” John concluded confidently.

Derek shook his head adamantly, looking back and forth between Stiles and John. “I can’t, I –”

“Derek,” John cut him off. “You know Stiles. I’m even harder to argue with than he is. We’ve got an empty guest room next to Stiles’ room, and I’m sure we can scrounge up something for you to sleep in.” 

Without giving Derek the opportunity to argue, Stiles chimed in. “We’ll get started on dinner, you go up and take a shower. You smell like you’ve been living in an abandoned train depot.” He winked and nudged a still-shocked Derek towards the stairs. “And don’t even think about jumping out the window, mister!” he called after Derek’s retreating back.

When Derek was upstairs, Stiles turned to face his father with a sheepish look on his face, wondering exactly what he was in for.

His dad just rolled his eyes and pointed towards the kitchen. “In,” he said. “We’re making steak and potatoes, and tomorrow morning you’re letting me have bacon again.”

Stiles bit his lip to keep from arguing. He grumbled as he got the ingredients out of the fridge, barely noticing when his dad left the room momentarily.

“Left some clothes out for Derek,” he mumbled when he returned.

Stiles didn’t know what to say, so he went back to cooking in silence. His dad took a seat at the kitchen table and studied Stiles thoughtfully. 

“I’m really upset with you, kid,” he started, pinching the bridge of his nose before running his hand through his hair. 

Stiles felt tears well up in his eyes, but didn’t look up from the potatoes he was slicing.

“I’m upset with you,” he repeated. “But I’m also so, so proud of you.”

At that, Stiles did look up. His eyes were round as saucers. He tried to swallow but found a lump in his throat. “Dad,” he croaked, not knowing what else to say.

“I am,” his dad affirmed, shaking his head incredulously. “The things you’ve had to deal with and the lives you’ve saved…” he trailed off with a grimace. “Don’t get me wrong, I hate how you went about it, and all the lies that have piled up between us as a result.” He chuckled sardonically. “Your mother tried to warn me you’d be headstrong. I guess I just didn’t know how right she was.”

The corner of Stiles’ mouth lifted up into a half smile at the mention of his mom. “So does that mean I’m not grounded?”

“Nice try. You’re grounded until you’re thirty,” his dad replied immediately, standing up and joining Stiles at the kitchen counter to take over potato cutting duties.

Stiles rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. He was just about to start cooking the steaks when Derek emerged from upstairs wearing an old Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department t-shirt and Stiles’ largest pair of BHHS lacrosse sweats.

The sight of Derek in such soft, casual clothing with wet hair and bare feet caused Stiles to temporarily forget what he was doing. 

It wasn’t until his dad cleared his throat and eyed the steaks on the counter pointedly, that Stiles remembered he was supposed to be cooking.

He shook his head and went back to his task with single-minded focus, hoping against all odds that Derek hadn’t picked up on his increased heartbeat moments before.

The smirk on Derek’s face when Stiles chanced a look at the wolf wasn’t encouraging in that department, but Stiles was determined to ignore the problem until it went away.

“Derek, why don’t you help me set the table?” His dad asked mercifully, leaving Stiles alone with his inappropriate thoughts.

Of course, these were different inappropriate thoughts than Stiles was used to. His fantasies had always included Lydia. Perfect, strawberry blonde bombshell Lydia. Not surly, frustratingly good looking Alpha Derek.

Praying that his dad and Derek were too preoccupied setting the table to notice Stiles’ existential crisis, he turned on his cooking auto pilot so his mind could race.

Was he attracted to Derek? Well, yeah. He had eyes.

But this was different. He looked at Derek again and felt the sudden urge to wrap him in a blanket and force feed him hot chocolate.

What the fuck?

Nope, not touching that one tonight. Stiles shook himself out of that thought process and went back to cooking with purpose.

He heard Derek and his dad talking, but tuned them out to focus on seasoning the potatoes.

“Derek, how do you like your steak cooked?” he asked without looking up.

“Raw,” Derek deadpanned, almost automatically.

Stiles looked up in surprise. A delighted giggle escaped his lips before he could stop it. 

His dad chuckled as well, shaking his head fondly at Derek.

Derek seemed a little surprised that he had made the two laugh, and ducked his head to hide his blush. “Medium rare is fine,” he mumbled.

“Got it,” Stiles responded with a grin.

Dinner passed comfortably, to everyone’s surprise. Derek didn’t say much, just listened as Stiles and the Sheriff squabbled over school and work.

Derek was struck by how normal the whole evening had seemed, despite the bomb they had dropped on the Sheriff only a couple of hours before.

When they were finished eating, Derek got up and started clearing the table. Stiles quirked his eyebrow and let a slow grin spread across his face.

“What?” Derek asked grumpily, grabbing Stiles’ plate.

“Nothing,” Stiles replied airily. “You just got up awfully fast. You don’t have to do the dishes, you know. Technically, you’re the guest.”

Derek looked down at the plates in his hands as if he was surprised to see them there. “Oh,” he offered lamely. “Habit, I guess. Dishes were always my chore back home.” He cleared his throat as his eyes darted around the kitchen, determined to look anywhere but at Stiles or John.

“You can just leave them in the sink,” said the Sheriff with a reassuring smile. “We’ll take care of them.”

Derek nodded stiltedly and did just that.

“Why don’t you head on up to bed and Stiles and I will finish up here?”

After another stiff nod, Derek walked towards the stairs, pausing at the bottom to turn back towards Stiles and John. “I – thank you,” he said softly, staring at his bare feet.

When he was gone, Stiles got to work clearing the rest of the table.

“So,” his dad started. “Anything I should be worried about?”

Stiles snorted. “As you now know, there are a whole host of things you should be worried about.”

John rolled his eyes. “I meant about you and Derek.”

Stiles whipped around, making shushing noises and flailing wildly. “He can hear you!”

His dad fixed him with an unimpressed look, ignoring his son’s exaggerated antics. “That’s a yes, then.”

“Dad!”

John rolled his eyes, but nodded begrudgingly. “Fine, we can talk about this later. I’m holding you to the bacon tomorrow. Bring lunch by the station and we can talk then.”

With that, he squeezed Stiles’ shoulder and went up to bed.

“Oh, and Stiles?” he called at the bottom of the stairs. At Stiles’ questioning look, he continued. “We need to talk about what really happened the night of the lacrosse game, too.”

Stiles swallowed. “Ok.”

After finishing the dishes, Stiles checked his phone. He had almost a dozen confused texts from Scott, which went unanswered. Shaking his head, Stiles turned off his phone and trudged up the stairs. 

He glanced at the closed guest room door and sighed. Eventually he knew he’d have to confront his new, confusing feelings head on. But not tonight.

Stiles toed off his shoes and shucked his pants into the corner of the room and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.


	6. I hate you both

When he awoke with a jolt, Stiles found himself sitting up with strong, muscular arms wrapped around his shoulders. He back was pressed against a firm chest and he could feel tears streaming down his face, stinging his lip as they soaked into the partially healed cut.

He was too confused to be embarrassed at first, trying to figure out what had happened and why Derek was holding him so tightly. Stiles could see out the window that it was still dark and groaned through his ragged breaths.

“I had a nightmare, didn’t I?” he croaked.

“Yeah,” Derek whispered back, not loosening his hold.

Stiles’ embarrassment chose that moment to come racing into the forefront of his brain. “Oh, come on!” he whisper-shouted at the ceiling, mindful that his dad was probably still asleep.

“Bad one?” Stiles asked, trying to keep his voice light.

Derek nodded against Stiles’ shoulder. “Sounded like it.”

Stiles cleared his throat, trying resolutely to ignore the fact that he was still in Derek’s arms. Instead, he closed his eyes and tried to get his breathing to match Derek’s.

After a few minutes, he succeeded. Derek loosened his grip, but stayed tucked between Stiles’ back and the headboard.

Stiles let out a whoosh of air. “Thanks for… well, you know.” He gestured tiredly at himself and ducked his head. 

Extracting himself from behind Stiles, Derek murmured, “Don’t worry about it.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously and turned to face Stiles when he was finally standing upright. “Get some sleep.”

Stiles nodded, not having quite found his voice again, and turned over so he was facing the wall. It took almost half an hour to get his heart beating normally again, partially because of the nightmare and partially because he couldn’t stop thinking about Derek’s arms wrapped around him, but he feel back into an uneasy sleep eventually.

He woke up late, barely having enough time to throw on some clothes before bolting down the stairs with his backpack hanging off of one shoulder. Stiles stopped short when he took in the sight of his dad and Derek sitting at the kitchen table eating bacon and sipping coffee like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles’ shocked expression and stood up to get the boy a to-go mug of coffee. 

Stiles, still standing in the kitchen doorway, opened his mouth and closed it a few times before he found his voice. “Good morning,” he croaked, accepting the coffee from Derek without a word.

“I think we stunned him into silence,” his dad stage whispered to Derek.

Derek snorted. “If I’d known it was that easy, I’d have come over for breakfast ages ago.”

“Hey,” said Stiles huffily, pointing back and forth between the two of them. “No. No bonding over making fun of me.”

They both shrugged and went back to drinking their coffee, effectively ignoring Stiles’ indignation.

Stiles scarfed down a piece of toast and called out a rushed goodbye over his shoulder before setting off towards school in his jeep. He made it halfway down the block before realizing it was Saturday.

When Stiles reentered the house, he was surprised to hear his father’s laughter coming from the kitchen. 

“You!” he pointed at the two of them again. “You knew the whole time and you didn’t say anything?”

His dad just continued laughing, while Derek held his hand out expectantly. Stiles’ jaw dropped when his dad placed a crisp ten dollar bill in his palm.

“I – you – what?” he sputtered eloquently.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, his dad explained. “Derek heard your heartbeat escalate when you woke up and figured out that you thought you were running late for school. I bet him you’d catch on before you left, but he said you’d make it all the way to your car.”

The corner of Derek’s mouth curled up into a smug grin. 

Stiles squinted at the two of them, heart oddly soaring at the thought of the two of them getting along so well. 

Indignation won out, however. “That’s why you were so quick to give me the travel coffee,” he accused Derek once the realization dawned on him. “You wanted to get me out of the house.”

Stiles threw up his hands when Derek didn’t deny it. “I hate you both,” he declared haughtily, turning around and walking back up to his room, leaving Derek and his dad both chuckling behind him.

He let himself grumble a little louder than usual so Derek would be able to hear him, and threw himself back onto his bed with a thump.

Still grumbling, Stiles pulled out his phone and paused. 

He wasn’t going to text Scott; the beta needed to stew for a little longer. Hmm, maybe Lydia.

Stiles’ thumb hovered over the message icon next to her name for a few seconds before he worked up the courage to press it.

He sent her a quick, ‘I’ve got a proposition for you,’ text, before snuggling further into his comforter.

Ten minutes and one hilarious conversation later, Stiles heard the front door close, indicating that his father had left for work. 

Stiles sent Lydia the all clear, then went downstairs to wait.

He entered the kitchen to find Derek still sitting at the table, reading the newspaper that John had set aside before heading to work.

Derek took one look at Stiles’ smug face and frowned. “What did you do?”

“Who, me?” Stiles responded, raising his eyebrows innocently and striding across the room to grab some milk and cereal.

Derek huffed and went back to reading his newspaper, casting suspicious glances at Stiles for the next few minutes until a scent hit him.

“Seriously,” he asked without inflection, rolling his eyes and setting the paper down.

There was a knock at the door.

“Can you get that for me?” Stiles asked with his mouth full, fighting to swallow around his self-satisfied grin.

Derek shook his head, but rose to open the door.

“What are you doing here, Lydia?” he asked her flatly once he had opened the door to reveal her presence.

“Good to see you too, Derek,” she replied imperiously, sliding past him without another glance and making her way towards the kitchen.

Derek growled under his breath and closed the door before joining the other two.

“So, Derek,” Stiles said cheerfully, “You got plans for the day?”

Derek folded his arms over his chest and squinted at the boy. “Yes,” he said definitively.

“Too bad,” replied Lydia, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “We’re going shopping.”

Derek looked between the two, trying to figure out if this was all a joke. “No,” he stated with finality once he realized they were serious. “I’m not going shopping with you. You used me to resurrect Peter. And I hate shopping,” he mumbled.

“You mean Peter used me to use you to resurrect himself,” Lydia corrected him with an impressive eye roll. “And it wasn’t really a question. I’m in need of a new pair of heels and I’m pretty sure you have maybe three pairs of pants and four shirts you wear on rotation,” she said critically, eying Derek up and down thoughtfully.

Derek leaned back and pouted. Lydia was right, but she didn’t need to know that. “No,” he repeated as if he had any say in the matter.

“Yes,” replied Lydia again. “Aside from you needing a new wardrobe, I need to talk to someone who actually knows what’s going on in this town. I have questions.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Derek muttered petulantly.

Lydia shot him a look at the tone. “Like, for example,” she continued in a sickly sweet voice, “Why your little misfit wolves tried to kill me.”

Derek grimaced and didn’t reply for a few seconds. He took in Lydia, standing in front of him with all the confidence in the world that he’d give in, and gave her a half shrug. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

Stiles, who was looking back and forth between them during the exchange, was ecstatic. He clapped his hands once and rubbed them together. “Terrific. Off you go.” He stood up and walked around the table, herding Derek towards the door with his spastic hands.

Lydia and Derek bickered all the way to the car.

“We’ll put our little spree on Daddy’s card, of course, but I hear you have at least ten dollars of your own,” Lydia said as they walked towards the door.

Derek sputtered, “Is that what this is about? Is this payback for my bet with John?”

“Obviously,” Lydia scoffed.

“Pain in the ass,” Derek muttered, throwing Stiles one last mutinous look before grabbing his leather jacket and heading out after Lydia.

“I’m surprised you’re not more into this. Didn’t you have sisters who forced you to go shopping?” asked Lydia, walking towards the driver’s side of her car.

Derek huffed a laugh. “Cora hated shopping. And Laura pretty much just hated people. We mostly shopped online.”

“That explains why you think a leather jacket is a suitable substitute for a winter coat,” Lydia replied, eying the offending jacket like it was a dirty dish cloth.

“I’m a werewolf, Lydia,” he growled, ducking into the passenger seat.

Stiles stood in the doorway, overly pleased with himself for how his plan was turning out.

His good mood was soured, however, when he received a text just as Lydia’s car was pulling away.

It was from Scott asking if he could come over to talk. 

With a big sigh, Stiles watched Lydia and Derek drive away until he couldn’t see the car anymore. He closed his eyes and took a breath in through his nose, then out through his mouth.

Nodding to himself, Stiles said yes.


	7. Think about it

Scott arrived ten minutes later, after Stiles had finished his breakfast and put everything away. 

He could hear Scott approach the door and pause just outside of it. They never knocked on each other’s front doors anymore; they usually just burst right in.

The fact that Scott had to knock broke Stiles’ heart, but he couldn’t help but be a little satisfied that Scott seemed to understand that he was in the dog house.

Stiles let Scott in, then stood back to let him through the doorway. They hovered in the hall for a few seconds, before Stiles just sighed and led Scott into the living room.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, facing towards each other. Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words to start.

“I’m sorry, man,” said Scott, breaking the silence. “I thought about what you said, and you’re right. I shouldn’t have forced Derek to give Gerard the bite.”

Stiles waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, Stiles prompted him. “And?” he leaned forward and raised his eyebrows.

Scott frowned and cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy. “And what?”

“Is that all you think you need to be sorry for?” The question came out more blunt than Stiles had meant it, but he bit his lip to keep from correcting the tone.

Scott threw his hands in the air. “What do you want me to say, Stiles? I’m sorry, alright? I should have talked to you about it first. But Gerard threatened my mom!”

Stiles shook his head emphatically. “You should have talked to Derek about it first, Scott, not me. Well, ok, maybe me first, but definitely Derek second. He deserved to know. Do you think he wouldn’t have helped you?” he asked earnestly. 

Scott frowned incredulously. “Have you met Derek? Of course he wouldn’t have helped me!”

Stiles ducked his head and shook it sadly. “You still don’t get it,” he said softly.

“Get what?” Scott asked.

“That all Derek wants to do is help,” Stiles declared with a finality that caused the air in the room to turn cold.

Scott opened his mouth, but Stiles silenced him with a wave of his hand. “Just…let me get through this please.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly through his mouth. “I think we’ve been approaching this whole werewolf thing all wrong. And part of that is my fault. I thought we could do it alone, but we can’t, Scott. We need help. And the one person who’s been offering us help this whole time is the one person we’ve been pushing away.”

Scott continued to frown, but said nothing.

“We’re not entirely to blame here, I know. Derek certainly doesn’t give out warm and fuzzy, ‘here, let me help you,’ vibes, but really, can you blame him? His family was murdered by hunters, his sister was killed by his uncle, and then we accused him of murdering her himself. That’s not really a recipe for a good relationship. But think about it. If that had happened to you, would your first instinct be to help an annoying new wolf and his hyperactive best friend? No. But his was.”

Scott looked begrudgingly ashamed, which Stiles counted as the beginnings of a win. “Stiles, he tried to kill Lydia. And he did kill Jackson temporarily, by teaming up with Peter…”

Stiles scoffed. “I think you lost the right to throw that particular stone when you teamed up with Gerard. But you’re right – he didn’t approach the kanima situation the way you or I would have. All I’m saying is that maybe if we’d given him the benefit of the doubt, or had even taken the time to listen to his point of view, we might have been able to work with him instead of against him.”

Stiles took a deep breath before continuing. 

“He tried to help you when he found out you were dating an Argent. Hell, he even helped Ally a time or two. And no offense, Scott, but some of the shit Allison has pulled, especially lately, is much worse than anything Derek did in his ill-executed attempts to help us.”

“Stiles, come on –”

“Scott, just think about it,” Stiles cut him off. “That’s all I’m asking. Think about what we’ve been through recently. Look at it objectively and tell me if you think maybe, just maybe, we might not have given Derek the benefit of the doubt when he deserved it.”

Scott licked his lips and looked away. “Fine. I’ll think about it. On one condition.”

“Name it,” Stiles said immediately. 

“You talk to Allison.”

“What?” Stiles shouted. “That’s your condition?! Seriously, Scott?”

When Scott simply looked at him stubbornly, Stiles relented. “Fine, I’ll talk to Allison, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be a fun, positive conversation. Just get out.” He couldn’t help but swat playfully at his best friend. 

Scott shot him a hesitant smile and stood up. “I’ll really think about it, I promise. You might be right.”

Stiles scoffed. “Might?” 

“Ok, ok, you’re probably right,” Scott allowed. “And I really am sorry.”

Stiles nodded, shaking out his arms to encourage the tension to leave his body. “I know you are, buddy.”

He pulled Scott into a brief hug and herded him towards the door. “Tell Ally to text me before she comes over. Derek’s been staying here and I don’t want her to just show up unannounced.”

“What?!” Scott stopped in his tracks. “Derek’s been staying here? Does your dad know?”

Stiles chuckled and slapped Scott on the back. “He’s the one who invited him, Scotty. We had the whole ‘werewolves are real’ talk last night with Peter.”

“Peter?!” 

“Ok, really, your face is going to stick like that. Yes, Peter,” Stiles told him, giving Scott a gentle shove towards the door to get him moving again. “It’s a long story. One I’ll be happy to tell you after you’ve thought about what we just discussed.”

Scott pouted, but walked towards the door. “Fine.”

“Wait, shouldn’t you have smelled Peter and Derek both when you walked in, though?” Stiles asked with a confused frown.

Scott sniffed the air and grimaced. “Oh, yeah, I guess.”

Stiles laughed. “Maybe if you ask nicely, Derek will teach you how to use that sniffer of yours a little better.”

Scott rolled his eyes like the thought of him asking Derek for something politely would physically pain him, but nodded. 

Stiles shut the door behind him and let out a breath of relief. Maybe this would work out after all.


	8. This isn't working

“I’m not asking you to trust Derek!” Stiles shouted, wringing his hands and pacing agitatedly back and forth through the living room.

“Well, good, because I never will!” Allison responded petulantly.

They’d been going at it for the better part of half an hour, alternating between screaming matches and passive aggressive silence.

Stiles shook his head and stopped walking. Fixing Allison with a hard glare, he retorted, “Your attitude isn’t helping.”

Allison’s eyes grew wide before collapsing into slits. “My attitude? What about yours?”

Stiles huffed, but lost his steely demeanor after a few seconds. “Fine. Maybe we both need to calm down.”

“Fine,” Allison repeated obstinately. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and sat in the armchair, running his hands over his face and through his short hair. He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “Maybe we should try a different approach.”

“I’m all ears,” she replied sarcastically, still high on the adrenaline from their last shouting match.

At Stiles’ exasperated look, Allison raised her hands innocently and took a deep breath. She collapsed onto the couch and shook her head. “You’re right, this isn’t working.”

“We’re friends, right, Ally?” Stiles asked softly.

“Of course,” Allison replied immediately, looking horrified that Stiles had felt the need to ask.

Stiles nodded, pleased. “Then we need to approach this like friends, not enemies.”

Allison looked wary, but nodded at him to continue.

“We’ve both done some things we shouldn’t have, especially in the last few months. I’m trying to make my mistakes right.” He paused for a few seconds until Allison met his eyes. “All I’m asking is that you do the same.”

Allison frowned and looked down. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do,” Stiles countered quietly. “Ally, you stabbed Isaac and you helped your grandpa kidnap and torture Erica and Boyd.”

“My mom’s dead because of them! Them and Derek!” Allison’s eyes lit up with rage, but she remained seated on the couch.

Stiles shook his head. “Your mom killed herself,” he corrected her, not unkindly.

“Yeah, after Derek attacked and bit her. Derek and his pack are monsters, Stiles, how do you not see that?” Allison implored him, leaning forward to accentuate her point.

“So, Scott didn’t tell you?” Stiles asked incredulously, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Allison shook her head. “Tell me what?” When Stiles didn’t respond right away, she repeated, “Tell me what, Stiles?”

Stiles cleared his throat and locked eyes with Allison. “She was trying to kill Scott, Ally. Derek heard it happening and bit your mom while saving Scott’s life.”

Allison’s breath hitched. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered with little resolve.

“You don’t have to,” Stiles told her. “Talk to Scott, he’ll tell you everything.”

The two sat in silence while Allison absorbed the new information. After giving her a few seconds to process, Stiles continued.

“Your dad let them go, you know,” he whispered.

Allison raised her eyebrow in confusion. 

Stiles smiled at the familiar face. “Erica and Boyd,” he clarified, still speaking quietly. “It was your dad who let them go after Gerard released me."

Allison’s face paled. “What do you mean ‘released’ you?”

“He kidnapped me the same night you helped him capture Erica and Boyd.” Stiles cocked his head to the side. “You didn’t know? He did this to me,” he gestured to his fading split lip and nearly-gone black eye.

“What? No! Stiles, I had no idea he took you, you have to believe me! I thought that was just from… you know… when you crashed through the warehouse.” Allison looked horrified at the thought of Gerard having been the cause of Stiles’ injuries.

“He’s not a good guy in this, Allison,” Stiles told her somberly. “You have to know that. Even your dad didn’t agree with the way he tied up and tortured Erica and Boyd.”

Allison started shaking her head and didn’t seem to be able to stop. When she started muttering to herself, Stiles stood up and joined her on the couch. He reached out and grasped her forearm firmly. Her hand shot out and grabbed his.

She looked up at Stiles, completely lost. 

“You need to talk to your dad,” Stiles told her. “And then I think you’ve got a few other people you need to talk to?”

“Oh, god. What have I done?” Her eyes shot up to meet Stiles’. “Stiles, what have I done?” she repeated with more urgency.

Allison stood up and looked around wildly. Stiles stood with her.

“Go, talk to your dad.”

She nodded frantically and ran towards the door. She looked back when she reached it and opened her mouth, but no words came out. 

“I know,” Stiles said with a smirk. “I’ll be here if you need me when you’re done.”

Allison nodded once more and left.

Feeling lighter than he had in months, Stiles pulled out his phone. He shot off a text to Scott, and another to Derek to let them know what had happened with Allison.

Predictably, Stiles received a bunch of exclamation marks from Scott and no response from Derek. 

With a sigh, Stiles went into the kitchen to whip up some chicken salad for his dad’s lunch.

Only to find Erica and Boyd sitting at his kitchen table.

“Seriously? I’m getting you both collars with bells on them,” he told them firmly, sweeping past them to get to the pantry.

“Sorry, Batman,” replied Erica with a yawn, not sounding at all contrite.

Boyd just smiled, all toothy and innocent, and went back to flipping through his phone.

“So, you guys heard all that, huh?”

“Yup,” said Boyd, not looking up from his phone.

“Great,” sighed Stiles. “You hungry?”

They both nodded, and Stiles got to work making lunch for four.


	9. Just like that

Cooking had always been soothing to Stiles. It was something he used to do with his mother; an activity just for them. He liked the predictability of it – each ingredient had a purpose.

Stiles ate with Erica and Boyd, then packed up the rest of the chicken salad and some fruit for his dad. He may have been a little distracted, but he still noticed the double helpings of bacon his dad had been sneaking lately. 

“You guys gonna hang out here for a bit?” he asked as he cleared the table. 

Erica nodded. “Yeah, probably. That cool?”

Stiles waved his hand absently in agreement before scrubbing the plates clean in the sink. Erica and Boyd stood up and stretched in tandem before plopping themselves on the couch and turning on the TV. Erica leaned against the arm and flung her feet onto Boyd’s lap. His hands came to rest on her ankles automatically, as if out of habit.

Stiles shook his head fondly and called out a goodbye to the two of them before striding across the driveway to his jeep. 

His mind was reeling.

In the last few days, he’d been tortured and beaten, helped turn a kanima back into a real boy, become part of Derek’s pack, and helped take down Gerard Argent. 

Not to mention he’d filled his dad in on the supernatural, and lectured both Scott AND Allison.

When had this become his life?

He shook the thoughts from his mind and focused instead on what the hell he was going to tell his dad about the Argents. More specifically, Allison. 

He’d just about made up his mind when he noticed a familiar car parked in the lot at the Sheriff’s Station. Pulling up next to it, Stiles couldn’t help but peek inside.

The red SUV was spotless both outside and in, but Stiles couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew the car, and its owner.

Warily, Stiles opened the door to the station and looked around for anything out of the ordinary. 

He didn’t have to look far. Coming out of his father’s office was none other than Peter Hale.

“Dammit, Peter,” he muttered under his breath, knowing the wolf would hear him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Peter merely grinned at him as the two passed in the hallway, and continued walking out the front door.

Stiles stepped into his dad’s office and hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “What did Peter want?”

His dad ignored his question at first and gazed longingly at the bag of food in Stiles’ hands. When Stiles pulled the bag further away, John finally looked at Stiles’ face and realized he was waiting for an answer.

“He just wanted to explain a little more about what had happened with Laura.” 

Stiles’ eyes widened. “What did he say?” Peter hadn’t opened up to anyone about Laura’s death, even Derek. To say Stiles was intrigued would be an understatement.

His dad held out his hand expectantly. Stiles rolled his eyes and placed one of the containers into his dad’s outstretched palm. John looked triumphant until he realized it was full of fruit.

“Ah, hell, Stiles,” he muttered, shaking his head at the grapes. “He really didn’t say much. He’d gone crazy while in the coma, smelled a wolf in his territory, attacked in a haze, that kind of thing.”

Stiles gaped. “And you believe him?”

“No, of course not,” John scoffed. “But if there’s one thing I learned at our little info session yesterday, it’s that Peter is dangerous. Or was,” he added under his breath. “In any event, I’m going to be keeping a close eye on him from here on out.”

Stiles eyed his father warily. “What does that mean?”

John looked around shiftily. “Well, he likes baseball…” He popped a grape into his mouth innocently, not meeting Stiles’ eyes.

“Dad, no.” Stiles got up from where he’d plopped into one of the chairs and rounded his dad’s desk. “You cannot bond,” he made a disgusted face at his own word choice, “with Peter.”

At that, his dad looked up. “Son, I don’t think you can lecture me about who I should and should not be hanging out with. And besides, the more time he spends with me, the less time he has to be hatching nefarious plans.”

Stiles closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “You’ve been spending too much time around me. Ok, fine. But you need to tell me when he’s going to be at the house.”

“Deal,” his dad replied firmly. “Now give me the rest of my lunch.”

While his dad ate, Stiles filled him in on what had happened with Gerard and Allison capturing Erica and Boyd, and Gerard beating him up.

Stiles had decided to tell him everything, including all the details about his conversations with Scott and Allison that morning.

When he was done, Stiles watched with bated breath as his dad put the fork down and stood up.

He saw the man’s face go from distraught father, to angry father, to angry Sheriff, to conflicted Sheriff, back to distraught father. 

With measured calm, John sat back down. “What do you think we should do about that?”

The question took Stiles by surprise. “Uh, nothing for now, actually. I think we should wait and see what Allison does next. And as for Gerard, if he’s not already dead, he’s not in any state to hurt anyone at the moment.”

John nodded. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Stiles frowned in confusion. “Just like that?” To give himself something to do, Stiles started picking up the trash and empty containers from his dad’s lunch and putting it back into the bag.

“Just like that.” John leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. “You remind me of your mother, you know that? Headstrong, logical, incredibly dry wit. And unlike most intelligent people, you gravitate towards people you perceive as smarter than you.”

Stiles didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t often that his dad talked about his mom, and he was really unfamiliar with the trust that was being put in him at the moment.

“You’ve been dealing with this for longer than I have,” he elaborated. “And you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, is all I’m saying. So we’ll do it your way right now.”

Stiles stood up and gathered his dad into a tight hug. When he pulled back, he could see tears in his dad’s eyes, but said nothing.

“I should head back to the house,” Stiles said, throwing a grin at his old man and turning towards the doorway. “I might have conspired with Lydia to have her take Derek on a shopping trip and I want to be there when they get back.”

John shook his head, but smiled widely. “Jesus, Stiles, hasn’t that poor boy been through enough?” He pushed Stiles out the door and went back to his desk chuckling.

The drive back to his house was much less tense than the drive to the station had been. Stiles took advantage of the nice day and rolled down the windows, letting the breeze sweep over him as he drove.

He was surprised and a little disappointed to see that Lydia and Derek were already back when he got home, but he grabbed his bag and trudged inside, knowing Derek would still be pouting when he opened the door.

To his complete and utter shock, Derek wasn’t pouting. He was, in fact, laughing.

It was just a small thing; a throaty chuckle that started in his chest and rumbled up through his mouth. But it was a laugh, nonetheless.

Stiles stood in the doorway, nonplussed. His gaze gravitated towards Derek’s eyes and how they scrunched up in the corners while he laughed.

Stiles shook his head and dropped his bag as he fully took in the sight of Derek and Lydia sitting in the living room with Erica and Boyd, chatting away like the four of them were old friends.

“What,” he spluttered eloquently. “How?” He pointed accusingly at all of them, still standing unmoving by the door.

Lydia rolled her eyes and got up off the couch. She made a point of patting Derek on the shoulder before she walked towards the front door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Erica?”

“Yup,” Erica replied easily.

“Tomorrow,” Stiles whispered incredulously. “What?”

“Bye, Der, Boyd,” Lydia called out, closing the front door behind her. 

“Der,” Stiles repeated flatly.

Derek raised one eyebrow defiantly and smirked at the look of shock on Stiles’ face.


	10. It's pack

“Shut up,” he told Derek’s eyebrows when they rose triumphantly at Stiles’ surprise. He slumped down into his dad’s armchair and folded his arms grumpily.

Derek schooled his face, but his eyes still sparkled with mirth.

“You have fun on your little play date?” Stiles asked Derek sarcastically.

“Yes,” Derek responded simply, not rising to the bait.

Stiles frowned and sighed. “Fine. Go put your stuff in your room – you’re no fun.”

Derek’s eyebrows creased at Stiles’ classification of the guest room, and rose tentatively from the couch. He followed Stiles’ instructions without a word, but Stiles could have sworn he caught a glimpse of a smile on the wolf’s face as he rounded the coffee table towards the stairs, bags in hand.

“You’re mad that he had a good time?” Boyd asked Stiles with a judgy frown.

Stiles sputtered and gesticulated wildly, causing him to almost lose balance on the chair. “Yes! I just – he was supposed to… ugh nevermind.” He deflated and leaned back in his seat.

Erica snorted and readjusted herself so her head was in Boyd’s lap and turned her attention back to the TV. After a few moments, Boyd began to run his fingers through her hair absently.

Stiles bit his lip before addressing them. “How is everything with you guys, by the way? You and Derek?”

Boyd cocked his head to the side in question. 

“Isaac told me you guys were leaving when Allison caught you,” Stiles admitted quietly.

Erica righted herself and scooted over so she and Boyd were flush against one another. “We were,” she confirmed, raising her voice a little so Derek could hear if he was listening from upstairs. “But being strung up in that basement scared the hell out of us.” She looked over at Boyd with surprising vulnerability in her eyes.

Boyd grabbed Erica’s hand and squeezed it tightly, intertwining their fingers and letting their hands rest on his thigh before speaking. “We realized that we’d spent all this time thinking about how imperfect the pack was, but we never really did anything to try and make it better. It wasn’t all Derek’s fault.”

Erica nodded vehemently. “So after Mr. Argent let us go, we decided to give it another chance, but differently. That’s one of the things we were talking about before you got here, actually… what we could all do to make the pack stronger.”

Stiles made an impressed noise and pursed his lips. “I’m surprised Derek let Lydia stay for that kind of talk.”

Boyd huffed a laugh. “He didn’t. She went outside for a few minutes to call Jackson.”

“So you guys came to an agreement, then?” Stiles asked. “You’re staying in the pack, and you’re all going to make an effort to do better?” Stiles’ eyes widened. “That’s… awesome,” he finished lamely, words failing him.

“It’s pack,” Derek interjected from the stairs, smirking a little when his sudden reappearance startled Stiles.

He walked around the couch, taking the time to rub the inside of his wrist under Erica’s ear and squeeze the back of Boyd’s neck.

The two, who had been sitting up straight, carrying tension in their shoulders and back, slumped in relief at the contact.

Derek rounded the armchair hesitantly and placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, scent marking him as well.

Stiles sent an encouraging smile and nod towards Derek and turned back to the betas while Derek rejoined them on the couch. He tried his best to ignore the flutter in his stomach when Derek touched him. Stiles was already keenly aware that they would have all heard the blip in his heartbeat, but they seemed determined not to mention it. Clearly Derek had already taught them the lesson about werewolf senses subtlety.

“So you guys are here to stay,” he repeated. “Great. Now all we have to worry about is how to take down the Alpha Pack.”

“And what to do with the Argents,” Boyd added with a grimace.

“Don’t forget about Peter,” said Erica with an apologetic glance at Derek.

Stiles sat up straighter. “Oh, my dad’s going to take care of Uncle Bad Touch.”

“What does that mean?” Derek asked flatly.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m not thrilled with the idea, but Peter went to see my dad at the Sheriff’s station this morning and apparently they’re going to start… hanging out,” he finished with a frown.

“No,” said Derek immediately. 

“Yes,” countered Stiles. “My dad is a grown man, and he can make his own decisions. Remember what he said last night? You’re not a lone wolf anymore.” He paused while Erica barked out a laugh. “You’ve got people – a pack – to help you with these problems. And my dad is going to take care of the Peter problem.”

Derek stood up and paced around the room. His nostrils were flaring when he stopped. “Fine,” he gritted out. “But I need him to tell me when they’re going to be together, so I can make sure someone in the pack is on watch.”

Stiles shot him a toothy grin. “Way ahead of you, big guy.”

The rest of the afternoon passed by surprisingly quickly. Isaac joined them about an hour after Stiles got home.

Stiles received texts from both Scott and Allison. He ignored Scott’s for the time being, but opened Allison’s. The messages included, among other things, an offer from her dad to provide the Sheriff’s station with wolfsbane bullets.

Derek looked up when he sensed a change in Stiles’ mood and heartbeat, but turned his attention back to the rest of the pack’s bickering when the boy simply shook his head to indicate everything was fine.

Stiles stepped outside to call Allison, knowing the wolves could still hear him. She picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey,” she said dolefully.

“Apology tour not going so well?” he asked softly.

He heard a sniff on the other line before Allison cleared her throat. “No, it’s fine. I just – I need to talk to Derek and his pack. I need to apologize to them in person.”

Stiles turned his head and locked eyes with Derek through the window. He quirked his eyebrow in question and waited until Derek said something to the pack, then nodded at Stiles.

Stiles nodded back. “Ok.”

“Ok?” she whispered breathlessly. “Thank you, Stiles, really.”

“They’re here, actually, at my place. Not Jackson and Lydia, but the rest of them.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “You want to come over and do it now?”

There was silence on the line while Allison considered the offer. “Yes,” she declared after a few moments. “I’ll bring the bullets for your dad, too.”

Stiles looked up when he saw movement inside and laughed when he read the piece of paper Isaac had pressed up against the glass.

“Isaac says to leave your ring daggers at home.”


	11. I can help you

Allison arrived at the Stilinski house an hour later. She apologized profusely and explained her point of view, including the posthumous letter from her mother, for about twenty minutes before Erica shocked everyone and stood up.

“Get up,” she commanded Allison.

Allison looked nonplussed. “What?” She stood up nonetheless and held her breath as Erica stepped towards her.

Stiles tensed and took a surreptitious step closer to Allison’s side. He didn’t really believe Erica would harm the huntress, but he felt better knowing he was close by in case an intervention became necessary.

To everyone’s surprise, Erica pulled Allison in for a perfunctory hug. 

Allison barely had time to react, let alone hug back, when Erica broke the embrace. 

Erica kept her hands on Allison’s shoulders. “That was for the loss of your mother. I know what it’s like to lose part of your family; my own mother left us when I was first diagnosed with Epilepsy.”

Allison’s face softened a bit, but her posture showed that she was still very much a hunter aware of their proximity to a predator.

Without warning, one of Erica’s hands left Allison’s shoulder and smacked her across the cheek. Allison responded instinctively, grabbing Erica’s arm and turning the wolf around, pinning the offending arm to her back. Erica ducked out of the hold and reversed their positions in a move so swift, Stiles made a mental note to applaud Derek later for the recent bump in their training regimen.

“Erica,” Derek warned. His hands hovered uselessly in front of his body, as if he wanted to both help Erica and, oddly, protect Stiles.

She released Allison, who bounded away from her once she was free. They retreated a few steps from one another, still standing in the middle of the living room.

Boyd had moved to flank Erica, while Isaac had run to Stiles and placed a hand on his back. Whether the hand was meant to steady Stiles or comfort him, Stiles didn’t know. In any event, the contact was welcome.

“That,” Erica told Allison around a smirk, “was for what you did to the three of us.” She gestured to Isaac, Boyd, and herself.

Allison looked as though she wanted to argue, but held her tongue. Instead, she stood up straight and locked eyes with Erica, unflinching.

In that moment, Stiles understood with perfect clarity why the Argent hunting family was matriarchal.

Allison nodded stiffly and turned her gaze to Derek. “Derek?”

The wolf, whose eyes had turned red at the confrontation, let his eyes bleed back to their normal color and faced Allison.

She cleared her throat and tried to ignore the tears starting to pool in her eyes. “I didn’t know – well, I guess there were a lot of things I didn’t know about,” she muttered mutinously under her breath. “I didn’t know what my mom was trying to do to Scott. I,” she cleared her throat again. “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I didn’t do anything when Aunt Kate had you tied up when she told me about werewolves. I was – I was scared. But I know that’s no excuse –.”

“It’s ok,” Derek grunted, folding his arms across his chest and frowning like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment.

Allison opened her mouth to continue, but shut it at the sight of Derek’s face. With another nod, she turned and walked out the front door.

When the door shut, it was like all the strings holding the pack up had been severed. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd all slumped together onto the couch, and the hard line of Derek’s shoulders softened, though he remained standing. 

Stiles took a deep breath and looked around the room, taking a quiet inventory of the pack. He rubbed the back of his neck in relief and blew the breath out sharply.

“Ok, homework time,” he declared, flopping into the armchair and grabbing his backpack from beside the coffee table. He looked up and found Derek staring at him with an unreadable expression. “What?”

Derek shook his head as if he hadn’t realized he’d been staring, and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned with three water bottles, which he flung at Stiles, Erica, and Boyd, and a glass of iced tea, which he set down in front of Isaac.

“Thanks,” mumbled Isaac, the tips of his ears turning red. 

At Stiles’ questioning look, Derek muttered, “he likes to drink iced tea when he studies.” He threw Stiles a half-shrug and settled into the chair on the other end of the living room.

Stiles bit back a retort and tried desperately to control his heartbeat. No, he was not going to think about how adorable he found it when Derek openly cared for one of his packmates. He was going to focus on his English Lit essay.

The other betas had grumbled when Stiles had declared homework time, but they settled into their studying silently. Stiles glanced up and saw that Derek had pulled a book off the shelf – one of his mom’s favorites, Stiles remembered with a pang – and was reading quietly in the corner.

About half an hour into their study session, Boyd grumbled in frustration. It was just loud enough that Stiles could hear, but the reaction from the other wolves told him that it wasn’t the first sound of discontent to come from the usually-stoic wolf.

“What’s the matter, buddy?” Stiles asked him with a smirk in his voice.

Boyd frowned at the tone, but his frustration with whatever was bothering him won out. “I’m not a big history person,” he admitted.

Stiles groaned sympathetically. “I’m not either, or I’d volunteer to help. Hey!” Stiles sat up straight and wiggled a bit in his seat as an idea struck him. “Derek is – he can help you.”

Derek looked up from his book in surprise to find his three betas staring openly at him. He cleared his throat and put the book down. “How… how did you know I like history?”

Stiles huffed a laugh. “Oh, please. Thirty crime thrillers and sci-fi novels on the shelf and you pick the one historical fiction book to read? History nerd.”

The corner of Derek’s mouth pulled up into a half smile, but was quickly dropped. Derek eyed Boyd cautiously. “Yeah, I, um, I can help you. If you want.”

“Thanks,” Boyd grunted, switching places with Isaac so he was on the end of the couch. 

Derek moved the chair towards Boyd and sat by the corner of the coffee table to familiarize himself with the time period Boyd was struggling to understand.

Isaac was trying hard not to look too much like a puppy wagging his tail, and pulled his textbook up onto his lap, grinning wildly. 

Erica shot Stiles a wink before getting back to her paper and suddenly Stiles thought that this whole pack thing might work out after all.


	12. War rooms

The betas’ heads shot up from their books about half an hour later, looking at the front door in unison. Stiles glanced over at Derek and found the Alpha grinning into his chosen book.

“Your dad wants our help bringing some things in from the car,” he told Stiles, getting up from his seat.

Erica stood and stretched, wandering over to the front door lazily while Boyd and Isaac packed up their work.

“My dad?” Stiles repeated, setting his textbook down and jogging over to the window. 

Sure enough, his dad’s cruiser had just turned the corner into their neighborhood.

“Wait, he called out to you guys while he was driving?” Stiles eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Boyd chuckled. “Man, he’s really getting the hang of this werewolf thing.”

“Much faster than Stiles,” Isaac added, chuckling as he ducked the pillow Stiles had thrown at him from across the room.

Stiles felt a surge of pride for his dad, and joined the others outside.

The Sheriff got out of the cruiser and placed his hands on his belt, throwing a stern look to the betas in the front yard. “So,” he said. “Werewolves, huh?”

Boyd and Erica nodded. “Yes, sir,” they replied at the same time.

He turned his gaze on Isaac. “You, too, Mr. Lahey?”

Isaac cleared his throat and nodded nervously.

John leveled the three of them with a glare for a few seconds before relaxing his stance and pointing at the trunk. “Alright, then. Make yourselves useful and help me bring in those boxes, will you?”

Boyd smiled and clapped Isaac on the back, prompting the younger wolf to move forward and walk to the trunk. Erica threw the Sheriff a toothy grin and went to help as well.

“There’s some stuff in the back seat, too,” John called to them while making his way past Derek and Stiles to the front door.

“Derek can get those,” Stiles volunteered cheerfully. “He’s pretty familiar with the back seat of police vehicles.”

Before Derek could do so much as frown at Stiles, John spoke up in the Alpha’s defense. “And whose fault is that?”

Derek laughed and went to help his betas, leaving Stiles to flail dramatically on the lawn. “Daaad!”

When his dad ignored him and kept walking until he disappeared into the house, Stiles gave up and helped carry the numerous boxes into his dad’s office next to the staircase.

“What are all these, Sheriff Stilinski?” Isaac asked after setting a particularly heavy box down on the desk.

The Sheriff, who had been taking down old papers and photographs from his bulletin board, sat down with a groan and started rifling through the nearest box. “The beginnings of our war room.” 

At Isaac’s confused head tilt, he continued. “This, here, is everything I could find so far on the Alpha Pack and on Gerard Argent.”

Derek hummed, impressed. “This is a lot of info. You got this all in one day?”

John smiled. “Most of it, yes. Some of it I’d already been investigating but until now, I couldn’t make heads or tails out of what it meant. Erica?”

Erica peeked out from behind a tower of boxes in the corner by the door. “Yes, sir?”

“Can you help Stiles take that stack,” he pointed to the boxes piled precariously near Boyd, “upstairs to his room, please?”

Stiles, who had already grabbed the top box, piped up, “Why my room?”

“I want to separate out the Gerard Argent stuff from the Alpha Pack stuff. You’ve got a war room board up there already, so that’s as good a place as any. If you want, we could put it in my room…”

“Nah, that’s good thinking, pops,” Stiles replied jovially, following Erica up the stairs. 

It took two trips each, but they got everything up the stairs. Stiles collapsed onto the bed, breathing heavily.

Erica grinned wryly at him and started putting relevant documents and pictures up on the board, barely winded.

“You’re lucky, you know,” she said quietly after a few minutes of silence.

Stiles scoffed, sitting upright on the bed. “Why, because I have the endurance of a dead sloth?”

Erica chuckled. “No, you idiot. That your dad’s so… ok with all this.” She ducked her head and bit her lip in a move that was so reminiscent of the old Erica that it forced Stiles into action.

He swept up off the bed and walked over to Erica, dipping his head to catch her eye. “You haven’t told your dad? About all this, I mean.”

She looked up and met Stiles’ eyes. “No,” she said softly, shaking her head. “I don’t think he’d handle it well. Certainly not as well as your dad. I’ve – I’ve been staying at Boyd’s, with his grandma. She’s great, but she doesn’t know either. I think she’d be ok with it, but my dad – he’s… he wouldn’t.”

Stiles wrapped his arms around her instinctively, gathering her up into a fierce hug. She reciprocated gratefully, wrapping her own arms around his waist and squeezing tightly. 

He looked up and found Boyd standing in the doorway. The usually-stoic boy looked conflicted, not wanting to interrupt, but obviously wanting desperately to comfort Erica. 

Stiles nodded at him and they seamlessly transferred Erica over from Stiles to Boyd. 

He left the two of them to their moment and rejoined his dad, Derek, and Isaac in the office.

Derek squeezed his shoulder in thanks when Stiles walked in the door. Stiles jumped in surprise, but sent Derek a warm smile when he realized what was happening.

The reassuring hand must have lingered for a few seconds too long, if the Sheriff’s pointed cough was any indication. Derek jumped away from Stiles as if burned and strode across the room to continue pinning documents to the board.

“Hey, Dad,” Stiles said cheerily, attempting to take the attention off of what had just transpired. “Did you see the bullets Allison left for you?”

John rolled his eyes, but went along with the subject change. He picked the box up off the desk and rattled it. “Wolfsbane?”

Derek and Isaac shuddered. “You should keep those on you whenever you see Peter,” Derek said, nodding at the box.

“Got it,” John replied with a nod, setting the box aside. 

They finished setting up the war room, then sent Isaac upstairs to help Erica and Boyd. Derek looked longingly at the ceiling, like he wanted to join them, but didn’t know if he would be intruding.

“Go,” Stiles told him softly, nodding at the stairs. “Your puppies need you.”

“Not my puppies,” Derek grumbled. But he bounded up the stairs nonetheless.

Stiles turned around to find his dad standing in the doorway, fixing him with an unreadable expression. 

“What?” Stiles asked defensively, staunchly ignoring the instinct to fold his arms across his chest petulantly.

His dad just raised his eyebrows innocently. “Nothing.”

Stiles couldn’t help the blush that covered his face. Not wanting to sit through a humiliating lecture about inappropriate crushes, he turned on his heels and escaped into the kitchen, leaving his dad chuckling in his wake.


	13. You have to want it

The next two weeks passed without incident; no Alpha Pack, no follow-up blowout with Scott, no Peter problems. Their war rooms were overflowing with information, but they’d seen no recent signs of either enemy.

In fact, the biggest issue Stiles could see was that the whole pack seemed to know about his monstrous crush on Derek. He hadn’t exactly been subtle. I mean, the guy was always taking his shirt off during training and Stiles was only human.

Unrequited crushes aside, the pack had never been stronger. Lydia, who had formed an inexplicable friendship with Derek almost overnight, had dragged Jackson to a pack training session about two days after her and Derek’s shopping spree. 

At first, Jackson had resisted everything. He complained about who Derek partnered him up with for sparring, he bitched about having to run the pack boundary perimeter, and he complained to everyone who would listen about Derek making them wake up early over the weekend to train before the sun came up.

After about a week, Boyd walked straight up to Jackson mid-rant and punched him right in the face. Jackson had snarled and unsheathed his claws, but Boyd had him pinned to the ground before Jackson could retaliate. 

“You chose this.” Boyd’s voice was barely above normal speaking volume, but for the normally laconic beta, that was akin to screaming. Stiles, Lydia, and the other betas had stopped what they were doing after the initial punch, and had subconsciously formed a semi circle around the pair. Derek stood across from them, completing the circle and watching calmly. 

“You chose this,” repeated Boyd, tightening his grip on Jackson’s pinned arm. “You wanted to be a part of the pack. Well, this is it. This is pack. You train with us, or you don’t. No one is forcing you to be here, so stop acting like this is a thing that’s happening to you and start acting like a part of this pack.”

Jackson, who had been struggling mightily when he was first pinned, had gone stock still by the end of Boyd’s admonition.

Boyd stood up gracefully and waited for Jackson to roll over onto his back before offering him a hand to help him up. Jackson took it warily and got up, brushing the grass and dirt off his pants in an effort to not meet anyone’s eyes.

“He’s right,” Derek offered, not unkindly. “There’s a place for you in this pack, Jackson, if you want it. But you have to want it.”

It didn’t take too much longer for Jackson to give in completely, though Stiles suspected Lydia had a lot to do with that. Derek had let slip during a pack meeting that he considered Lydia pack, and that was it. Lydia was pack. And Jackson wasn’t about to be left out, so suddenly Derek had a pack again. A misfit pack with four teenage werewolves, one resurrected werewolf, and three humans.

But a pack.

Stiles got home from his second to last day of school to find that most of the pack was already there. Isaac, Jackson, and Erica were playing video games in the living room, Boyd and Lydia were sitting at the kitchen table picking out their courses for Junior year, and Derek was… cooking?

“Shit,” Stiles mumbled, ducking his head and blowing out a harsh breath. He tried to ignore the swooping, fond sensation in his stomach that always came around when he saw Derek providing for his pack.

He put his backpack down in the living room and stalked into the kitchen with his head held high, firmly ignoring the part of him that wanted to wrap his arms around Derek’s waist and help him cook.

“Wait, you’re making spaghetti carbonara? From scratch?” Stiles groaned and sat down next to Boyd, burying his head in his arms.

Boyd hummed sympathetically and gave him a conciliatory pat on the back, correctly interpreting Stiles’ dismay. 

Derek just cleared his throat and turned around to face the three at the table. “The key is the noodles,” he said shyly.

Stiles looked up in time to see a slight smirk on Derek’s face. Before he could obsess over what it meant, Lydia weighed in. “Derek spent all day making noodles from scratch, Stiles.”

Stiles had never wanted to kick her under the table more. Instead, he took a moment to revel in the fact that he was no longer in love with the terrifying strawberry blonde and shot her a toothy grin. 

“What?” she asked suspiciously, not expecting that reaction. Not liking the feeling of unease that came with not knowing what was going on, Lydia quickly turned back to her course schedule. 

Internally pumping his fist at the small victory, Stiles jumped when he realized he hadn’t heard Derek approaching the table. The Alpha was looking over Lydia’s shoulder, standing less than two feet from Stiles. 

“Good,” he nodded approvingly at her chosen courses. Lydia looked up at him and gave him a genuine smile, which he returned without hesitation.

“So what’s the occasion?” Stiles asked, needing to change the subject before he internally combusted. 

Derek cocked his eyebrow and returned to the stove. “Occasion?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, for the homemade noodles. Unless you do this all the time.”

Derek chuckled – which Stiles would never get over – and resumed his stirring. “Actually, I do have some news.” He waited a second, knowing the betas in the other room would start gathering in the kitchen to hear what he had to say. 

When he turned around and saw everyone congregated around the table, he smiled softly. “John has been helping me the last few days, using his contacts and getting all the paperwork in order. I’m, um, I’m going to rebuild my house – make us a real pack house.”

There was a second while everyone processed the information and Derek held his breath. Then, as if on cue, the kitchen was suddenly filled with happy yelps and whoops of joy. Erica leapt forward and planted a wet kiss on Derek’s cheek. 

“That’s great,” Isaac offered, patting Derek on the shoulder with a grin.

Boyd gave him a perfunctory hug, after which Lydia made a show of getting up on her tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss to his other cheek.

Stiles had stood up when Derek first broke the news, but didn’t really know how to express his excitement. The decision was taken out of his hands when Derek approached him, leaving the others to start excitedly talking amongst themselves about how to decorate their rooms.

“This is going to be awesome, Derek,” Stiles told him genuinely, keeping his arms firmly planted at his sides. 

Derek stopped a few feet from the boy with mischief in his eyes. “What happened to ‘we hug in this household,’” he said in an impression of Stiles’ dad so terrible that Stiles couldn’t hold back a surprised snort.

He launched himself forward without thinking and wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist. Not quite like he had pictured doing it before, but the effect was the same. 

Stiles reveled in the warmth of Derek’s back for a few seconds before his brain registered that Derek’s arms were wrapped around his neck. He pushed his cheek into Derek’s chest and felt a happy rumble.

They separated a few seconds later than they probably should have, but neither seemed to care.

The pack dinner that night was an uproarious affair. The Sheriff arrived about thirty minutes after Derek’s big announcement, blueprints in hand.

With the excitement of everyone picking out their rooms, the end of school closer than ever, and the relative calm from the Alpha Pack, it seemed like nothing could get them down that night.

Which, of course, was when Stiles’ phone buzzed in his pocket. He was still laughing from a joke that, surprisingly, Jackson had told, when his face dropped at the sight of the name on his screen.

He felt Derek’s foot nudge his own under the table and looked up to meet the Alpha’s eyes. Derek cocked his head to the side in question.

Stiles shook his head, looked down at the message, and sighed. “It’s from Ally,” he said with a grimace.

The table went quiet as they waited to Stiles to elaborate.

“She wants to come to the pack meeting after school tomorrow.”


	14. Wanting to talk

Stiles woke up the next morning with a pit in his stomach. Allison hadn’t elaborated on the reason for her request to come to tonight’s pack meeting, so Stiles wasn’t sure if he should be nervous or excited.

So, of course, he settled on nervous.

He showered and changed on autopilot, going through all the possible scenarios and contingency plans in his head, and padded downstairs to the kitchen. Derek was standing at the griddle making pancakes while John sat at the table with coffee and the newspaper.

Stiles grunted a good morning at both of them and sat down, pillowing his head in his hands. He heard a small chuckle and looked up in time to see Derek set a mug of hot coffee down in front of him.

They shared a smile so sweet, it reinvigorated Stiles, then finished eating breakfast companionably. 

“Alright, kids, I’m off to work,” John announced, finishing the last of his coffee and putting the empty mug in the sink. “Derek, Peter’s coming into the station for lunch today, do you want someone there again?”

Derek thought about it for a second before shaking his head. “No, he’s been good so far and most of the pack will be at school. But you call me if you need me; I’ll be up at the old house for most of the day overseeing the demolition.”

John nodded and left with a clap to Derek and Stiles’ shoulders.

“Demolition starts today? On your old house?” Stiles asked, cocking his head to the side in an attempt to get a good read on Derek’s feelings about his childhood home being torn down.

But Derek just smiled. “Yeah, it was time. Even if I wasn’t going to rebuild, I probably would have done it.”

“That’s great,” Stiles offered, grabbing the dishes and rinsing them quickly before putting them into the dishwasher. “You’ll be back by five though, right? For the pack meeting.”

Derek nodded and reached across the table for the newspaper John had abandoned there.

Looking down at his watch, Stiles groaned. “Ok, I gotta go pick up your puppies for school –”

“Not my puppies,” Derek grunted halfheartedly, like he always did.

Stiles waved him off and ran out to his jeep.

Fifteen minutes later, Stiles was hopping out of his jeep, laughing, when he caught sight of Scott across the parking lot. He shut the car door and glanced around at Erica, Boyd, and Isaac grabbing their bags from the trunk before he shot Scott a tentative smile.

Scott returned the smile genuinely and waved to the others before ducking inside the school.

Isaac threw his arm around Stiles, shaking him out of his thoughts, and steered him inside as well. “How is that going? You and Scott, I mean” he asked shyly. No one really liked to bring up Scott around Stiles, unsure how he would react.

Stiles shrugged. “We still text almost every day, and I see him in classes and stuff. We haven’t really hung out in almost two weeks though. And I miss him,” he admitted sadly, hanging his head.

Erica shuffled over to him and locked her arm in his. “So does that mean he’s ok with you being pack?”

“We don’t exactly talk about that sort of stuff, but I think he’s coming around to the idea.” Stiles shrugged again. “Maybe we should, though – ”

Stiles’ thought was cut off when he turned the corner and nearly ran into none other than Scott himself. Shooting a suspicious glare at Isaac and Erica, who had clearly led him to this point, he turned his attention to his best friend (former best friend?). “Hey, Scotty.”

He raised his hand in a half-wave and let it drop pathetically to his side.

Scott’s smile was a little forced, but he seemed genuinely happy to see Stiles. “Hey, man. I, uh, I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? About what?” He ran his hand over his ever-lengthening hair and rubbed his head nervously.

“Two things, actually.” He perked up, and Stiles only just held back a snort at how much like a puppy Scott could look sometimes. “Deaton asked me to see if you were free right after school. He said he has something he wants to talk to you about.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “An invitation as cryptic as the man himself, but ok. What was the other thing?”

Scott shuffled his feet and looked down. “I – I miss you, man.”

Stiles slumped, not having even realized how tense his shoulders had been until he exhaled. “I know, I miss you too. I just,” he blew out a harsh breath. “Did you think about what we discussed?”

Scott nodded earnestly. “I did, really. I’ve even been talking to Allison and Mr. Argent and Deaton about it –”

“Three people who have a history of looking at things solely from one side,” Stiles cut in.

“Yeah, I know, but I’ve really been trying. Really,” he implored Stiles.

Stiles sighed and remained skeptical. “Why don’t we talk this weekend? You wanna come over on Saturday?”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Won’t Derek be there?”

“Nope,” Stiles shook his head. “He’ll be on site all day.” At Scott’s confused look, he elaborated. “Derek’s rebuilding his old house.”

Scott smiled politely, not really knowing what to do with that information. “Well, ok. Saturday, then.”

Stiles laughed at Scott’s uncertainty and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, man, let’s go to class.”

Scott followed him happily, and this time Stiles didn’t suppress him laughter at the thought of Scott wagging his imaginary tail.

After school, Stiles dropped Erica, Boyd, and Isaac off at his place and drove over to the clinic to see Deaton. He parked his car and headed inside uneasily, still unsure what to expect. The only good thing about the timing of Deaton’s request was that it helped Stiles take his mind off of what might happen at the pack meeting with Allison in a few hours.

He opened the back door and stepped into the main exam room. Deaton was facing away from him, coaxing a small tabby into a crate. “Mr. Stilinski,” he greeted without turning around.

Stiles shook his head, unsurprised. “Hey, doc. You wanted to see me?”

Deaton disappeared with the crate into a back room and reappeared seconds later empty handed. “I did.”

Stiles waited a few seconds to see if Deaton would elaborate. When it became clear he wasn’t going to, Stiles flailed his arms exasperatedly. “And? Why did you want to see me?”

Deaton smiled in a way that made Stiles want to punch him. “I wanted to talk to you about your abilities.”

“My abilities?” Stiles’ face scrunched in confusion as he flung his bag on the floor and sat down in one of the cold metal chairs against the wall.

Deaton simply nodded and turned around to grab a vial off the shelf by the door. “I’d like for you to try something, if you would.”

Interest piqued, Stiles just nodded and stood back up, almost tripping in his haste. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what ‘abilities’ he might have.

In the middle of the exam table, Deaton dumped out about half of the vial. 

“Mountain ash?” Stiles asked, taking a step closer and reaching a hand out towards it. He stopped himself just before touching it and looked at Deaton inquisitively.

Deaton nodded again. “I would like to see if you could create a barrier around the table. Much smaller than the one you created around the warehouse, of course.”

Stiles frowned but leaned forward to grab the ash. 

“Without touching it,” said Deaton, stopping Stiles before his arm had fully outstretched.

“Without touching it?” Stiles repeated dryly. “I’m not a wizard, Deaton.”

Deaton just gestured silently to the small pile of ash on the table and took a step back. His face was infuriatingly blank.

Stiles frowned at him, but turned his attention to the mountain ash. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, before opening them and eying Deaton speculatively. “You sure this isn’t some big joke? Are you secretly recording me so you can have a laugh later?”

Deaton gestured towards the ash again and said nothing.

Sighing deeply, and still somewhat sure it was a joke, Stiles closed his eyes and focused on the pile of ash. In his mind, he imagined it forming a tight ring around the table.

When there was no whoosh of wind or burst of light, Stiles opened his eyes, prepared to send a big old ‘I told you so’ Deaton’s way. Instead, his attention was immediately pulled to the closed, black line of ash surrounding the exam table.


	15. We broke the code

“What the fuck!?” Stiles stepped backwards until he was flush against the wall. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the mountain ash line he’d created.

“Hmm,” was all Deaton offered. He stood still for several moments before turning around and walking into the back room.

“Seriously, what the fuck?” Stiles called after him, raising his voice with a squeak.

The question had barely left his mouth before a loud roar announced the arrival of a werewolf. Stiles’ eyes finally left the line as he took in Derek in his beta form, eyes shining red. 

Derek looked around for a threat, and shot Stiles a confused glance when he found none. Breathing heavily, Derek tilted his head in question.

“Uh,” was all Stiles could say.

Derek looked back and forth between Stiles and the mountain ash line still surrounding the table. “Deaton, what’s going on here?” he demanded when the man reemerged from the next room.

“It would seem our Mr. Stilinski is a spark,” Deaton remarked simply and unhelpfully. 

Several emotions crossed Derek’s face in a span of a few seconds; so fast, Stiles could barely keep up. There was one, cautious hope, that Stiles made a note to ask Derek about later.

Stiles cleared his throat, still pressed up against the back wall. “What the hell is a spark?”

Deaton’s mouth curled up into a small smile before he explained further. “A spark is a magical being, more powerful than a simple witch, wizard, or mage. You draw your energy from within yourself and from the people and objects around you.”

Stiles felt like he was about to faint. Just before his knees buckled, Derek ran towards him and wrapped a firm arm around Stiles’ waist. Stiles’ arm hooked over Derek’s shoulder without a thought, anchoring himself to his Alpha.

“Is this spark related, or is he just freaking out?” Derek demanded of Deaton, not taking his eyes off of Stiles’ face.

Deaton shook his head almost indecipherably. “Creating a simple mountain ash line would not have this kind of dramatic effect on him.”

Derek blew out a harsh breath and led Stiles out to his car, ignoring Deaton entirely. Once Stiles was seated in the passenger side of his jeep, Derek let him go and took a step back.

Almost instinctively, Stiles reached out to him, seeking contact. Derek ran forward and grabbed Stiles’ hand in one of his own. He let the other find Stiles’ shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled.

Stiles’ breathing was even, but his eyes were glassy and unfocused. He tried to think about something, anything that might help him center himself, but he couldn’t. “A spark,” he huffed out, staring at the ground by Derek’s feet.

“Yeah,” was all Derek could bring himself to say. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Stiles realized they were holding hands. He gave Derek a quick squeeze before letting go and rearranging himself so his back was against the seat. He let his head lean back onto the cool headrest and closed his eyes. “Thanks,” he whispered. 

Derek, who had left his hand on Stiles’ shoulder, murmured a soft, “no problem,” before standing up from his squatting position.

“How did you even know I was here?” Stiles asked, opening his eyes. He smiled when he realized Derek’s were still glowing red. 

“Oh,” said Derek eloquently. He dropped his other hand and scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Isaac overheard you talking to Scott earlier. I figured you could use some backup.” He trailed off and shot a look of disdain towards the animal clinic doors. “I’m not a big fan of Deaton’s.”

Stiles huffed a laugh and started to feel a little more like himself. “Yeah, the dude’s pretty shady. So I’m a spark, huh? I guess I’ve got some research to do.”

Derek ignored Stiles’ indignation at the suggestion that he was in no fit state to drive, and ran back inside to grab Stiles’ bag and keys. 

“Have you ever met a spark?” Stiles asked Derek when they pulled out of the parking lot.

Derek was silent for a few seconds, before he nodded. “My – my sister, Laura, her boyfriend was a spark.”

Stiles exhaled deeply. “Was he… there?”

“Yeah, he was at the house that night,” Derek responded grimly. “He had been training to become the pack’s next emissary.”

“Like your pack Yoda,” Stiles said, nodding.

Derek chuckled, but didn’t disagree. “I think I still have some of his old study materials. You know, if you want…”

“Yes!” Stiles said eagerly, bouncing in his seat. “I’d love to read whatever you’ve got.”

Derek nodded, pleased. 

As they pulled into Stiles’ driveway, Derek smirked suddenly. 

“Oh, that’s not a good smirk,” Stiles accused, taking off his seatbelt and rushing inside.

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his mouth at the sight of Allison bracketed between Isaac and Erica on the couch, looking supremely uncomfortable. 

Stiles waved them out of their seats. “Come on, guys, stop torturing her.”

Isaac stood up immediately, throwing Allison a cheeky wink. Erica took her time, but stood eventually as well, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she walked across the room to sit in Boyd’s lap on the armchair.

Stiles took Isaac’s vacated seat, while the beta joined Lydia and Jackson in the kitchen to get drinks for everyone.

Derek stood in the doorway and nodded at Allison in greeting. She returned the nod and scooted towards Stiles surreptitiously. 

The door opened again, revealing John and Peter. When everyone was situated in the living room, Stiles started the meeting. “So, Ally, what’s going on?”

Allison sat up straight and addressed Derek directly. “I would like to propose a truce between the Argents and the Hale Pack.”

Derek’s face betrayed no emotion, but Stiles could almost feel his annoyance. “The Hale Pack already has a truce with the Argents. It’s called your Code.”

Allison cleared her throat. “Yes, well, we broke the Code.”

The admission silenced the room of shuffling and sniffling. All eyes were on Allison and Derek.

“You did,” Derek allowed in a low voice. 

“My father and I are writing a new Code for our family. It is our hope that the Code will spread to other hunters in the area,” Allison continued.

Derek nodded. “I see. And what do you and your family hope to get out of this truce?”

Allison stood up, but made no move to advance towards the Alpha. “We’re not your enemy, Derek. Not anymore. But we know about the Alpha Pack, and I think our best chance of defeating them is if we work together.”

Isaac quickly turned his scoff into a cough when Derek leveled him with a glare, but the rest of the room remained silent.

Derek’s eyes met Boyd’s. He cocked his eyebrow and waited for the beta to give him a sharp nod before turning his gaze back to Allison. “Alright.”

Even Allison seemed a little surprised, but she schooled her face quickly. “Thank you, Derek. I’ll get in touch with Stiles –”

“Boyd,” Derek cut her off. “Boyd’s my second, so I would prefer all contact go through him.”

Allison nodded and shot Boyd a tentative smile.

“Here,” said Boyd, tapping Erica gently so he could be let up. “I’ll walk you out and you can give me your contact info.”

Boyd led Allison back out to her car. Lydia was the first to break the silence after the door closed behind them. “Stiles isn’t your second?” she asked, genuinely curious rather than accusatory.

Derek shook his head and smiled shyly at Stiles. In that moment, Stiles knew exactly what Derek was thinking and nodded his head enthusiastically, grinning wildly.

“No, he’s not my second. But I think he might be our new emissary.”


	16. So, you're magical?

After the rest of the pack left, Derek and Peter stayed behind with Stiles to try and explain to his dad exactly what a spark was, and what the duties of an emissary would be. 

“So, you’re magical?” he asked Stiles dubiously.

Stiles nodded excitedly. “Yup! And he’ll deny it if asked, but even Deaton was impressed with my mountain ash line.”

John shot him a proud smile and turned his attention to Derek and Peter. “What do you two know about sparks? Is this a common thing?”

Peter shook his head. “Not at all. Sparks are very rare; we were lucky to have had Andrew in the pack.”

“Laura’s boyfriend,” Derek explained at the sight of John’s confused frown. “He was a spark, and next in line to be our emissary.”

John could guess how that ended, so he simply nodded at them to go on.

“Now, Andrew was smart,” continued Peter. “He had to be to keep up with Laura. But he had nothing on Stiles.” He looked at Stiles in a way that made Stiles want to cover himself up and hide behind a tall bookcase. “You’re going to be extraordinary,” he whispered to himself.

Derek growled lowly, snapping his uncle out of his train of thought abruptly.

“Anyway,” said Derek. “I’ll go to our family vault tomorrow and get all the information we have on sparks and emissaries.”

“I thought you wanted to be at the site all day tomorrow?” Stiles asked him with a frown. “Aren’t they finishing the demolition? You really wanted to be there for that.”

Derek shrugged. “I’ll miss a little, but –”

“I’ll go to the vault,” Peter cut in. “I can grab everything Stiles needs.”

The other three took turns exchanging distrustful looks at how quickly Peter volunteered to do something that wouldn’t benefit him directly. “I’ll go with you,” John volunteered. “I work the late shift tomorrow, so we can go in the morning.”

Peter just nodded in agreement, while Derek eyed his uncle suspiciously. 

Stiles nudged Derek under the table, silently urging him to move on. Derek pouted, but relented.

“Ok, so –”

“Before we continue,” Peter interrupted. “Would you also like me to collect all the information we have on banshees?” he asked Derek with an innocent look Stiles knew was anything but.

Derek furrowed his eyebrows. “Why would be need information on banshees?”

“For Lydia, of course,” Peter responded with a cheeky grin. “You didn’t think she was simply immune to the bite, did you?”

John leaned forward in his chair, looking like his head was about to explode. “Hold on a minute. I’m on board with werewolves and sparks, but banshees? Those are real, too?”

“Banshees and so much more,” Peter leered.

“Moving on,” Stiles said loudly. Derek snickered behind his hand, but shot Peter a warning look to behave himself. “Derek, you may want to call Lydia. I don’t want her learning she might be a banshee from Uncle Bad Touch.”

John laughed at the name, but Peter fixed him with a glare. It was more half-hearted than it would have been a week ago, though, so Stiles didn’t pay it much mind. 

Derek split off to go call Lydia, leaving Stiles in the kitchen with Peter and John. To Stiles’ surprise, Peter started taking ingredients out for dinner.

John joined him without batting an eye, leading Stiles to believe that it wasn’t all that unusual for Peter to cook at the Stilinski household after all. 

He left them to it and plopped into an armchair in the living room. He was still running on adrenaline from his meeting with Deaton, and wanted to tell his best friend about it. 

Stiles pulled out his phone but paused at his contacts list. It was always Scott who he talked to about these kinds of things. Would Scott want to know this? Would he be mad Stiles didn’t tell him sooner? 

Stiles shook his head. Scott was still his friend – the friend he told right away when Lydia spoke to him in the third grade for the first time. The friend he stayed with for a month after his mom died because he couldn’t stand being in his own house. The friend who had followed him into the woods to look for a dead body because Stiles thought it would be fun.

He sat up straighter in his chair and texted Scott about his newfound spark.

Less than a minute later, Stiles received a line of exclamation marks and a whole paragraph about all the cool things Stiles can try with his magic.

Smiling, he texted back and forth with Scott for a few minutes, reveling in how much like his old self he felt.

He ended the conversation after Scott told him they could reschedule their bro time for Sunday, so Stiles could spend all day Saturday going through the spark research.

Stiles hadn’t told him about becoming Derek’s emissary yet; that was a face to face conversation.

Derek entered the living room with a happy sigh.

“Everything go ok with Lydia?” Stiles asked him when he plopped down onto the couch.

Derek nodded. “Yeah.” His lips quirked up into a grin. “She’s already got Jackson and Isaac doing some research with her tonight.”

“Hey, Stiles?” he asked after a few minutes. 

“Huh?” Stiles looked up from his phone to lock eyes with the Alpha.

“You want to be our emissary, right?” Derek’s eyes were open and earnest, leading Stiles to abandon his armchair and join Derek on the couch.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “I really do.”

Derek studied Stiles for a bit, not-so-subtly sniffing the air to check Stiles’ emotions, before nodding slowly. “So does that mean you’re giving up on the whole ‘pack for a month’ thing?”

Stiles snorted. “I think I gave up on this being a temporary thing about thirty minutes after I said that.”

They shared a happy laugh before Derek reached over Stiles to grab the remote. Stiles shivered at the brief contact, but fought to keep his heartbeat even.

Derek smirked and ducked his head, but didn’t comment on the change in Stiles’ scent. He simply turned on the TV and sat back into the couch comfortably.

Not one to be outdone, Stiles leaned against the arm of the couch and plopped his bare feet onto Derek’s lap.

Derek growled but made no move to displace them. After a few minutes, his hands came to rest on Stiles’ ankles, absentmindedly rubbing circles into his skin until Peter called them both in for dinner.


	17. Getting there

Stiles awoke with a smile on his face. He rubbed his eyes and checked his phone to find a message letting him know that his dad and Peter had already left for the Hale vault and would be back with the spark and emissary research in less than an hour.

He stumbled down the stairs, still half asleep, and sat down at the kitchen table next to Derek.

Derek was already dressed for the day and was working on his second cup of coffee. He shook his head at Stiles’ state and set about making a cup for the sleepy boy.

Stiles grumbled a thank you and curled his hands around the warm mug, willing the caffeine to kick in so he could be wide awake when he started his research. 

“Anything from Boyd about the new truce with the Argents?” he asked through a yawn.

Derek shook his head and checked his phone again just in case he’d missed a message. “Nope, not this morning. Boyd said last night that they’d have something by this afternoon.”

“Do you anticipate any problems?” Stiles asked, sitting up straighter and taking a large gulp from his mug.

Derek hesitated before responding. “No,” he said after a moment. “Allison seemed pretty set on convincing us that they’ve changed, and I think Chris will follow her lead easily enough.”

Stiles nodded in agreement and couldn’t help the slight smile he sent Derek’s way. 

“What?” Derek asked suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows innocently and leaned back into his chair. “Oh, nothing. You’re just, like, a fully functioning Alpha now, is all…”

He trailed off when the tips of Derek’s ears turned pink. Derek ducked his head, but not before Stiles caught a glimpse of his bunny teeth peeking out behind his smile.

“Not yet,” he disagreed quietly. “But I’m getting there.”

Derek left shortly after for the Hale house to oversee the demolition. Stiles waited in content silence for his dad and Peter to return from the vault.

About half an hour later, Peter made a show of putting a large box of books down loudly on the coffee table in the living room, before huffing and heading back out to the car for a second trip. John lagged behind a little, but entered the house with a similarly large box.

Stiles’ eyes widened. “That’s a lot of stuff,” he said unnecessarily.

Peter scoffed. “Sparks are a serious business. You think we would’ve let just anyone train to be our emissary without doing their research?”

John murmured something that sounded suspiciously like, ‘be nice,’ as he brushed past Peter to bring the last of the books from the car.

Peter rolled his eyes, but went silent.

“Why don’t we leave him to it?” John suggested quietly, steering Peter back out the door.

Stiles paid them no mind, already fully engrossed in one of the books. 

Before he knew it, three hours had passed. Stiles felt like his head was going to explode with all the information he had forced into his brain.

Just when Stiles felt like he was going to pass out, there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for Stiles to answer, Erica opened the door and let herself in. 

“Derek said you might need a break,” she said in lieu of an actual greeting.

Stiles smiled involuntarily at the thought, causing Erica to roll her eyes as she plopped down onto the couch. “You look unusually relaxed today, Catwoman,” Stiles accused.

Erica smiled and picked up one of the books, thumbing through it idly with a shrug. “Just came from Allison’s house.”

“What?” Stiles yelped, putting down the book he had been reading and turning his body to fully face Erica. “What the hell were you doing at Allison’s house?”

Erica snorted at Stiles’ overreaction. “Boyd needed to talk to her and her dad about the truce, so I tagged along as backup. He and Chris got caught up in a conversation about battle strategy, so Allison took me out back and gave me a quick archery lesson.”

Stiles squinted at her. “She just… taught you how to use a bow and arrow? Like, she voluntarily made you more dangerous.”

“Well, I don’t know how voluntary it was,” Erica dismissed with the wave of her hand. “I may have told her she owed me one after the whole incident where she, you know, shot me full of arrows.”

For maybe the first time in his life, Stiles was at a loss for words. 

Erica didn’t give him any time to recover before moving on. “So, what have you learned so far, oh emissary, my emissary?”

Stiles ran his hand through his hair and blew a big breath out. “Well, as far as I can tell, being a spark is mostly about spell casting through willpower.”

Erica quirked her eyebrow and looked up from the book in her hands. “So… you can basically do whatever you want?”

“Not exactly,” Stiles responded, shaking his head. “I only have a finite amount of energy I can pull from myself. After that, I have to pull from others, or from objects around me.”

“But if you had enough energy, you could do whatever you want?” Erica pressed.

Stiles half shrugged. “I guess.”

Erica pursed her lips, impressed. “Wait, how come you didn’t know it until Deaton told you? Like, why didn’t your magic manifest itself before now?”

“Ah,” said Stiles, pulling one of the most worn books from the pile and handing it to Erica gingerly. The cover was so faded, the title could no longer be seen. “I call this one Spark 101. This one says my magic only works when I believe it will.”

Erica opened the book to a random page, taking care to handle it delicately. 

“So, for example, you know how sometimes you’ll be sitting on the couch and the remote is super far away but you don’t feel like moving? And you stretch out your hand and wish for the remote to go flying into your hand?”

He waited for Erica to nod before continuing. “Well, now the remote would actually fly into my hand because I know it can. But before, I didn’t actually know I was magical, so I didn’t believe it would happen. Does that makes sense?”

Erica pursed her lips and nodded again. She cocked her head to the side and grinned at Stiles mischievously. 

“No,” Stiles said firmly, pointing at her with a stern finger and taking the book back from her hands. “I know that smirk. We’re not going to use my powers for evil.”

Erica laughed, but relented. “Fiiiine,” she said innocently. Her eyes kept their playful spark while she picked up a new book. “Want some help?”

“Sure,” Stiles agreed easily, leaning back into the couch ready to learn with a renewed vigor.

They spent the next few hours learning more about the practical aspect of Stiles’ spark before attempting a few rudimentary spells. 

Stiles was in the middle of levitating his cell phone when it rang. Seeing it was Derek, Stiles let the phone drop into his hand and answered it, barely getting a word out before Derek interrupted him. 

“So, I just had a very interesting conversation with Scott.”


	18. They're new

“Oh, no, what did he do?” Stiles groaned, putting the phone on speaker and setting it down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Erica rolled her eyes and sat back with pursed lips at the mention of Scott’s name.

Derek sighed. “He came to see me at the site. He, uh, apologized?”

“That would make me happy if it didn’t sound so much like a question,” Stiles said, shaking his head.

“Well, he said he ‘understood’ all the things he’d done wrong… he just kept repeating that word.” Derek paused. Stiles could almost picture the frown forming on the Alpha’s face. He smiled at the thought of Derek’s eyebrows forming a v, and the slight crinkle of his forehead and around his eyes, and – 

Stiles was interrupted from his daydreaming by Erica pinching his thigh. She wrinkled her nose pointedly and mouthed, ‘focus.’ He shot her a wink and laughed silently, choosing to be smug rather than embarrassed.

“Yeah, that sounds like Melissa’s influence,” Stiles offered, bringing himself back into the conversation. “Good to know he’s branching out from only getting advice from the Argents and Deaton…” he trailed off.

“What else did he say?” Erica asked, staring at the phone intently.

Derek hummed thoughtfully before responding. “He said he was sorry, and that he wanted to try and start over.”

Stiles snorted. “Ok, that sounds more like him.”

“I told him I didn’t think I could do that,” Derek said quietly.

“You’re right,” Stiles said firmly. “I don’t think that would benefit either of you.”

“I agree,” offered Erica. “Starting over wouldn’t be helpful, but I think a case could be made for moving forward.”

Stiles nudged her with his shoulder, smiling proudly. Erica rolled her eyes at him, but shot him a shy smile in return.

They could hear Derek’s grin in his response. “That’s what I told him. He wants to come to the pack meeting Monday night. I said I’d ask around, but didn’t think anyone would have any strenuous objections.”

Stiles and Erica nodded in tandem. “I’ll text the pack,” Erica said, pulling out her own phone and sending off a message to the group chain.

“Anything else?” Stiles asked, ignoring the incoming buzz from Erica’s message.

“He stayed for a bit after we were done talking. I… I taught him a little about scents and stuff.” Stiles could almost picture his nonchalant shrug.

“I’m sure he appreciated that, Derek,” Stiles managed through a grin. 

They chatted for a few more minutes about Stiles’ research before they both had to hang up.

Erica eyed him speculatively throughout the conversation, not adding anything verbally.

“What?” Stiles whined when he ended the call.

“Nothing,” Erica replied innocently, bouncing off the couch and heading into the kitchen.

Stiles followed her pitifully, both loving and hating the fact that she knew he would.

“So,” she said, turning to face him with an evil grin once she had poured them both a glass of lemonade. “Derek, huh?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Stiles protested unconvincingly, taking large gulp of his drink and pointedly not meeting Erica’s eyes.

She raised her eyebrows, waiting for him to come clean, but sighed in resignation when she realized Stiles wasn’t going to talk. “Fine,” she said. “But when you’re ready to talk about it, I’d better be your first call,” she finished threateningly. 

The corners of Stiles’ mouth turned upwards involuntarily. “Ok,” he whispered shyly, putting an end to the conversation.

Lydia, Jackson, and Isaac joined the two shortly after, having spent the morning going over the banshee research Peter and the Sheriff had brought by from that Hale vault. They sat in the living room, taking great joy in making Stiles float random objects around the room. 

“Try this one!” Isaac exclaimed, taking Jackson’s phone out of his back pocket and tossing it to Stiles before Jackson even knew he’d been pick pocketed. 

“Hey,” Jackson protested, rounding on Isaac. He pounced on the boy, and the two wrestled on the floor while Stiles made the phone dance around the room.

Erica laughed and checked her own phone when it pinged. “Well, this has been fun, but I gotta go.”

Stiles, who wouldn’t have paid any attention to the dismissal before, noticed a slight blush on Erica’s face when she rose from the couch. “Where ya going?” he asked innocently.

“IhaveadatewithBoyd,” she said quickly, picking up the pace and rounding the couch at a supernatural speed. She was stopped by Isaac and Jackson, who had halted their sparring just in time to prevent Erica’s escape.

“You have a what?” Lydia asked mischievously. 

“A date with Boyd,” Erica replied, looking around nervously. 

Stiles smiled and sat up straighter. “He finally asked you? About time,” he scoffed.

Erica fixed him with a glare. “You wanna open that door? Really?”

“No,” Stiles said, shrinking back into the couch cushions.

Lydia waved her hand dismissively. “Ok, you’re not wearing that on your first date with Boyd.”

Erica looked down at her outfit. “What’s wrong with this?” She plucked at her shirt and frowned. After her initial burst of werewolf cockiness had worn off, Erica’d shed the miniskirts and tube top look for a still form-fitting, but more comfortable skinny jeans and nice blouses look. Today, however, she had dressed for a research binge and was in a faded pair of jeans and a t-shirt Stiles was pretty sure was his.

Lydia rolled her eyes and stood up, extending her hand to Erica. “Come with me.”

Erica looked at her hand dubiously, but took it and followed Lydia up the stairs.

When they returned a few minutes later, it was clear that they had switched tops. It also looked like Lydia had put a little makeup on Erica. Erica flipped her hair over her shoulder jokingly, showing off her new look. 

Isaac wolf whistled and Jackson gave her an appraising once-over before nodding approvingly. 

After she left, Stiles took in the sight of Lydia wearing his shirt. Only a month ago, the prospect would have floored him. Now, he just found himself smiling a little at how cozy she looked.

He floated Jackson’s phone back to him and looked down at his own, surprised to see that he had a message waiting for him. 

It was from his dad, letting him know he was at work and Peter was headed back to his place.

Stiles snorted and shook his head at the strange friendship developing between his dad and Peter. He voiced his thought to Lydia, Isaac, and Jackson as he shot off a response to his dad.

Jackson just scoffed and wrapped his arm around Lydia, intent on making her smell more like him than Stiles.

“Sometimes I find it hard to believe he and Derek are even related,” Isaac said with a fake gag.

Stiles felt a tug in his gut at the words. He frowned and looked down at his stomach accusatorily. When he looked up again, he found three pairs of eyes trained on him, confused.

“What was that?” Jackson asked.

There was another tug, this one more insistent. “Hold on,” he told it quietly, reaching for one of his research books. He flipped to a page he remembered reading about an hour before on instincts relating to pack members. 

“Do you guys feel that?” he asked the others, turning the page and scanning the next few paragraphs.

“Feel what, Stiles?” Lydia asked, sharing a look of concern with Jackson and Isaac.

“This tugging. It feels… it feels like a pack bond,” Stiles said distractedly. “Erica and I read some stuff about them this morning. I can feel one for every member of the pack.”

“Ok,” said Isaac slowly, drawing out the word. “So which one of ours is tugging?”

Stiles shook his head, still reading. “That’s the thing – it isn’t anyone I recognize. There’s two of them and they’re… they’re new.”

“What do you mean new?” Jackson asked apprehensively. 

“I don’t know, I only just started feeling them when –” Stiles stopped, eyes widening when comprehension set in.

Lydia leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees. “What is it? When what?”

“When Isaac said something about Peter and Derek being related,” Stiles whispered, closing his eyes to tug back on the bonds.

Isaac looked around at the other two to see if they understood what was going on better than he did. When he was met with two similarly lost stares, he inched closer to Stiles.

Stiles’ eyes shot open. He smiled widely, now certain what the tugging meant. “Guys, Peter and Derek aren’t the last remaining Hales.”


	19. Not impossible

“We need to see Deaton,” Stiles said firmly, grabbing his keys and running out the door. 

The others followed eagerly, piling into the jeep with confused but determined faces.

Stiles only broke three or four traffic laws on the way to the clinic, and made it in record time. He skidded to a stop and threw open the driver’s side door almost before the car was in park. The back door to the animal clinic was unlocked, so Stiles let himself and the others in.

Deaton was in the back room filling out paperwork. Luckily, there were no sick animals or patients in the lobby waiting to be seen.

“Stiles,” Deaton sighed, not looking up from his desk as Stiles, Jackson, Lydia, and Isaac sprinted in.

“Deaton, we need your help,” Stiles panted, coming to a stop in front of the vet’s desk.

The man looked up and quirked a single eyebrow, inviting Stiles to elaborate. 

“Well, Peter brought me a bunch of books on sparks and emissaries from the Hale vault this morning. I’ve been looking through them all day trying to learn as much as I can –”

“Alone?” Deaton cut him off. “That is… ill advised.”

Stiles cocked his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Deaton pinched the bridge of his nose and stood up so he was eye level with Stiles. “You don’t know the extent of your power yet, Stiles. I assume you are here because something went wrong during your studies?”

“No!” Stiles insisted. “Well, maybe. I don’t know yet,” he said, flailing his arms wildly in his frustration.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning, then,” Deaton instructed calmly, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.

Stiles sat down with a weary sigh and launched into his story, trying his best not to leave out even the smallest detail.

Deaton was silent for several seconds after Stiles was done. “You feel two new pack bonds?” he confirmed.

Stiles nodded. “They feel like Hales.”

“That’s… improbable,” Deaton settled on after more silence.

“But not impossible,” chimed in Lydia, fixing Deaton with a glare that made it clear she knew he was holding something back.

Deaton shook his head. “No, not impossible.” When Stiles waved at him impatiently to continue, Deaton sighed. “I heard a rumor after the fire that another Hale may have escaped. I reached out to my contacts all over the country and nothing ever came of it, so I dismissed the rumor as just that – a rumor. It seems I may have been wrong.”

“How come Derek didn’t feel the bond, then?” Isaac asked. He was quiet, as if we wasn’t sure he should be interjecting. Lydia reached over and squeezed his hand, which relaxed him some.

“I doubt very much that Derek felt any pack bonds at all directly after the fire,” Deaton said. “Losing that much of your pack at once would have been devastating to the instincts of a werewolf. The bonds would have all felt as if they’d severed. By the time he was in control enough to feel them, he would have only felt the ones he was sure still existed; Laura’s and Peter’s.”

Stiles nodded thoughtfully. “Ok, so who are these new Hales? Is it possible two people escaped that night?”

Deaton shook his head. “One would have been stretch. It would have been nearly impossible for two to have escaped without anyone noticing.” He paused for a second and eyed Stiles speculatively. 

Without warning, Deaton’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Stiles asked urgently, disconcerted by the show of surprise from the usually-taciturn man.

“Stiles, the books Peter brought you. Was one of them large with a red cover?” Deaton ran into the back as he spoke, returning with a small scroll. He unfurled it and placed it on the desk, pointing at an old drawing of one of the books that Peter had, indeed, given to Stiles that morning.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, excited at the prospect of his question potentially being answered. “Yeah, that was one of them.”

Deaton’s face paled. “Did you find it easy to read?”

Stiles nodded again. “The wording was a bit stuffy, but yes.”

“You never should have been given this book, Stiles. It contains magic far more advanced than you should be attempting.”

Stiles held his hands up innocently. “Hey, I didn’t cast any spells from that one, okay? All I did was levitate a few things, that’s all!” 

Deaton shook his head. “But you can read it.”

“Yeah, I can read it,” Stiles said again. “So what?”

“It’s written in Akkadian,” Deaton said in a defeated voice. 

Lydia’s sharp gasp drew Stiles’ attention. “What?” he asked, head whipping between Lydia and Deaton.

“It’s a dead language, Stiles,” Lydia told him somberly.

Stiles ran his hands over his face roughly. “So, you’re telling me I read a book in a dead language I have no way of knowing?”

Deaton nodded.

“Ok, super weird but we can talk about that later. What does this all have to do with the pack bonds?”

Deaton cleared his throat before responding. “There is only one known printing left of this book. It was rumored to have belonged to the Hales, but until now I believed it was lost in the fire. All other copies were destroyed over the years because of the dangers of one of the spells the book contains.”

“Which spell?” asked Jackson.

Deaton spared Jackson a glance before locking eyes with Stiles. “A resurrection spell.”

No one spoke for several minutes. Stiles paced around the room, while Lydia and Isaac sank into adjoining chairs. Jackson leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, looking supremely uncomfortable, but unwilling to leave.

“A resurrection spell?” Stiles confirmed in a strangled voice. “But… but I didn’t cast any spells from the book.”

Deaton offered him a pitying smile. “Did you read aloud from it?”

Stiles tilted his head as he considered the question. “Yes,” he whispered. “I did.”

“Now, I don’t know what would have been involved in the spell, but it is possible that, through an incredible confluence of events, you managed to unintentionally resurrect one of the Hales.”

“Which –” Lydia paused to clear her throat when her voice came out scratchy. “Which one?”

Deaton blew out a breath and looked down at the scroll on his desk. “My guess would be Laura. The others would have been dead for too long for the spell to have been effective.”

Stiles looked gutted. He collapsed into a chair and grabbed the hand that had been placed on his shoulder. He knew without looking up that it was Jackson’s.

“How,” he whispered. “How could I have brought someone back without meaning to?”

Deaton fixed him with a stern look. “Stiles, you are much more powerful than you know. It is imperative that you do not attempt anymore spells until we find a way to control your power.”

Stiles nodded numbly. When the full meaning of Deaton’s words hit him, he stood up and flailed wildly. “We have to find Laura. If she really is back, she’ll have no idea what’s going on. And if Derek finds her first – oh, god. Derek.”

Feeling like he was about to throw up, he leaned into Jackson, letting the beta take most of his weight. Jackson shot another uncomfortable look at Lydia and Isaac, but tightened his grip on Stiles to keep him upright.

“Stiles, can you feel anything else in the bond? A location or a tugging, perhaps?” Deaton frowned, trying to determine just how they might find Laura.

Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated. “Yeah,” he nodded. “One of them is tugging; feels like it’s trying to lead me somewhere. The other,” he paused and concentrated harder. “The other is more faint. There’s something in the way that’s causing me not to be able to follow it.”

“We will have to deal with that after you find Laura,” Deaton suggested. “You should follow the bond.”

Stiles was out the door before Deaton could finish his sentence. The others followed and soon they were in the car on the way to the Preserve. The tugging in Stiles’ stomach became more insistent as they approached the South entrance.

He parked the car and sprinted towards the path. They had barely made it half a mile before coming upon a woman standing in the middle of a clearing, naked and covered in dirt. A woman Stiles recognized from his dad’s police file on Laura Hale’s death.

She stood up to full height and let her eyes bleed gold. “What the hell are you doing here? This is private property.”


	20. We need to talk

A burst of laughter escaped from Stiles before he could stop it. He clamped his hand over his mouth until he was sure he could be trusted to speak without giggling.

“Sorry,” he said to Laura. “It’s just… that’s like the first thing your brother said to me when we met.”

Laura’s posture remained tense, but her face softened slightly. “You know my brother?” she asked distrustfully.

Stiles nodded and gestured to Lydia, Jackson, and Isaac behind him. “He’s our Alpha.”

Laura frowned, furious. “You’re lying. Derek’s a beta, and we don’t have any other pack members. Are you hunters?” She crouched down and bared her fangs, preparing to attack.

Jackson darted forward and put himself between Stiles and Laura. His eyes shined ice blue as he growled. “He’s not lying. We’ll tell you everything, but you need to calm down.”

Lydia scoffed from behind them, pulling off Isaac’s overlarge jacket and stalking towards Laura without breaking stride. “Have I taught you nothing? Telling someone to calm down nearly always has the opposite effect. Here,” she said, tossing the jacket at Laura. “Isaac’s been wearing it all day, but it’s actually Derek’s. Go ahead, take a whiff.”

Laura’s eyes never left Jackson’s aggressive stance as she stood up and held the jacket to her nose, inhaling Derek’s scent greedily. Her eyes lost their beta gold when hit with the familiar smell. “Where is he?” she demanded, pulling on the jacket and wrapping it firmly around herself.

“He’s fine,” Stiles assured her, placing a hand on Jackson’s shoulder until the wolf stood up and his face lost its beta form. “But we do need to talk about some things before we take you to him.”

It took about twenty minutes to catch Laura up on everything that had happened, including her death, but not including how they had brought her back. When they were finished, Laura’s hand was over her heart and her mouth was agape.

“I don’t believe you,” she whispered. “Peter would never do that to me.”

The others exchanged looks, unsure how exactly to take that one on. Surprisingly, it was Lydia who responded. 

“He probably wouldn’t now,” Lydia allowed with a grimace. “But the old Peter? Yes, I’m sorry, but he would.”

Laura looked absolutely gutted at the declaration. Stiles approached her slowly, with his arms out so she wouldn’t perceive him as a threat. When he reached her, she surprised him by pulling him in by his arm and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Stiles responded instinctively, returning the embrace and breathing calmly, subconsciously trying to get her breathing to match his. Laura angled her face so her nose was in his neck, inhaling his scent where it was most potent.

When she pulled back, Laura looked at Stiles suspiciously. “Why?” she trailed off. “Who are you?”

Stiles cleared his throat. “I’m the Hale pack emissary.”

She looked behind Stiles to the others, as if expecting them to dispute his claim. When no one said anything, she huffed. “I need to see Derek. Now.”

“Of course,” said Stiles, putting a hand on the small of her back and leading her towards his parked car. He tossed her some old lacrosse sweats he had in the trunk when they got to it and hopped in the driver’s side.

The others let Laura take the front seat, squeezing into the back with Lydia in the middle. 

“I’m going to call Derek,” Stiles told Laura as he started the car. “You can’t say anything – I need to talk to him in person before you see him.”

Laura frowned. “Why?”

“Oh, please,” Stiles scoffed. “If the roles were reversed, would you believe he was just magically back from the dead? I need to ease him into it.”

“Well, ease quickly,” she snarked back, impatient to see her brother.

Stiles felt a tap on his shoulder and turned his head as much as he could while he was driving. 

“I like her,” Isaac stage whispered to him.

Stiles rolled his eyes and dialed Derek. 

“Hey, Stiles,” Derek greeted.

Laura let out a low whine at the sound of Derek’s voice.

“What was that?” he asked Stiles suspiciously.

“Huh? Oh, I’ve got Jackson, Lydia, and Isaac with me,” Stiles evaded deftly. “Anyway, are you still at the old house?”

Derek sounded suspicious, but let the issue drop. “Uh, yeah. The crew went home for the day. I’m just finishing up some…stuff.”

Stiles frowned at the shift in Derek’s tone. “What kind of stuff?”

Derek was silent for a few moments. “I re-buried Laura this morning a few miles away in the Preserve. I didn’t want anything to happen, you know, during the demolition. I’m just refilling the ground in now.”

Filing that bit of information away to talk to Deaton about later, Stiles sniffled. “Got it. I’m heading over – want to see how it’s going and all. Be there in five.”

He hung up before Derek could respond and tossed his phone into the cup holder under the radio.

“Deaton says it’s permanent,” Lydia informed the car from the back seat. She looked down at her phone and sent a few more texts to the vet, no doubt asking about any side effects they should be on the lookout for.

Laura slumped in relief. Despite having known her for only half an hour, Stiles felt the same way. He reached out tentatively to grip her forearm, shooting her a small smile before returning his eyes to the road.

He parked a few hundred yards from the Hale house, not wanting to risk Laura being seen before Stiles could talk to Derek, and slumped up the long driveway.

Derek had just finished filling in the old grave when Stiles came into sight around the trees. 

He smiled at Stiles and tossed the shovel to the side, using the hem of his shirt to wipe away the sweat on his forehead.

Stiles pointedly looked away from Derek’s bare stomach until Derek let his shirt fall back down with a knowing smirk.

“The place looks great,” Stiles offered as a distraction, gesturing to the house. All that was left was the foundation. There were a few dumpsters placed around the property, and Stiles couldn’t help but marvel at how much work they had gotten done in such a short amount of time. 

He stopped about twenty feet from Derek, not wanting to get close enough to the wolf that he could smell Laura.

“We, uh,” Stiles stuttered. “We need to talk.”

Derek frowned, concerned. He started to advance on Stiles, but stopped when Stiles held up a hand. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles shook his head quickly. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Something just… happened.”

He rushed through an explanation of the book Peter had given him, and of the pack bonds. He left out the part about the second bond, wanting to keep that one to himself until he and Deaton could figure out what it meant. 

“So, you can feel another wolf? Another pack member?” Derek asked, trying to put all the pieces together. “Do you know who it is?”

Stiles nodded slowly. “I do.” He waited until Derek waved impatiently for him to continue. “It’s Laura.”

Derek’s posture turned stiff and his face closed off. “That’s not funny, Stiles. I thought you of all people would know not to joke abou –”

“I’m not joking, Derek,” Stiles cut in frantically. 

“It’s not possible,” Derek countered, still angry. “Laura’s dead.”

Stiles agreed with a shrug. “She was. Deaton said there must have been a strange confluence of events that occurred this morning while I was reading the spell out loud that allowed me to bring her back.”

Derek stood stoically, as if waiting for a punch line that would never come. He shook his head almost imperceptibly back and forth. “This,” he whispered. “This is a cruel joke.” Tears pooled in his eyes as he cleared his throat.

Stiles stepped forward then, striding purposefully towards his Alpha. He stopped when there was less than a foot between the two and leaned his head to the side, exposing his neck.

The movement startled Derek until a familiar scent almost knocked him over. He staggered backwards, but righted himself immediately and pulled Stiles forward roughly, nosing at his neck and along his collarbone.

He pulled back a few inches, meeting Stiles’ eyes with his own Alpha red ones. “Laura,” he gritted out, sounding absolutely wrecked.

Laura must have been hovering nearby, listening. She rounded the corner at a run. Stiles barely had time to step aside before Laura bounded into Derek’s arms.

Derek lifted her off her feet in his enthusiasm, letting out a low, steady whine. Even when he let her back down to the ground, his arms remained wrapped around her. One hand gripped the back of her neck while the other wound itself around her waist.

Laura’s hands were fisted in his shirt at his back, her face plunged into his neck.

Stiles wiped away an errant tear as he took in the sight of the two Hales reuniting. Derek’s eyes shot to Stiles, looking at him fiercely. Stiles nodded, reassuring Derek wordlessly that it was all real.

Derek readjusted his grip on Laura to squeeze her tighter and suddenly let out a broken sob, letting his knees buckle.

The two collapsed to the ground, maintaining their grips on one another. Laura whispered reassurances into Derek’s ear as she held him.

As he turned to leave them to their reunion, Stiles could just barely make out Laura repeating the same phrase over and over.

“I’m not going anywhere.”


	21. Nonsense

Stiles walked back to his car in a daze. He arrived to find Jackson, Isaac, and Lydia all teary eyed standing around the jeep. 

At the sight of Stiles’ quirked eyebrow, Lydia explained. “Isaac didn’t want to eavesdrop, so Jackson listened in and let us know how the whole reunion went.”

Stiles shot Jackson a stern look, but clapped him on the shoulder as he passed the beta. They piled into the jeep so Stiles could drive the three back to Lydia’s house. Isaac had promised to text Erica and Boyd about their newest pack member as soon as he was sure their date was over.

He pulled into his own driveway alone and sat in his car for an indeterminate amount of time, still reeling from the events of the day. Stiles was startled by a tapping on his window, and looked up to find that his dad had returned from his shift early.

Stiles hopped out of the car and surprised his dad by pulling him into a fierce hug. Not knowing what had precipitated it, John simply hugged his son back until Stiles chose to pull away.

“What’s going on, kiddo?” he asked, leading a still-dazed Stiles into the house gently.

Stiles sat down on the couch in the living room while his dad took off his boots, jacket, and put his gun in the office safe. When he reappeared, he wasted no time in joining Stiles.

It took about fifteen minutes to catch his dad up on everything that had happened that day.

“Hold on,” his dad said, rubbing his face wearily. “You mean to tell me that you’re so powerful, you can bring someone back from the dead by accident?”

Stiles nodded, but remained silent as he tried to read his dad’s expression. After a minute, Stiles spoke up hesitantly. “I can’t bring her back, Dad,” he said, correctly interpreting his dad’s thoughts.

It had been the first thing he’d thought of, too, at the Animal Clinic. His mom.

John just nodded and moved on, trying and failing to hide the wrecked look that passed over his face at his son’s words. “So, Laura’s back. Any idea who the other bond could be?”

Stiles cleared his throat. “Uh, no, not yet. Deaton said he’d heard rumors that one of the Hales had escaped the fire, but nothing had come up when he’d looked into it.”

The two stopped their conversation when they heard the roar of the Camaro turning the corner onto their street. They both stood up and faced the front door, unsure of what to do.

The decision was taken out of their hands when Derek bolted through the door and swept Stiles off of his feet. His hands wrapped around Stiles’ waist and squeezed just shy of too tightly. Stiles found himself returning the embrace just as intensely, gripping Derek’s shoulders as his eyes slid shut.

There was a low whine in his ear, followed by a broken, whispered, “thank you.”

They clung to each other for a little too long and were unceremoniously interrupted by the Sheriff clearing his throat pointedly. 

Derek let go and stepped back as if burned, his eyes immediately finding John, who was standing in his typical Sheriff pose with his hands on his belt. His pointer finger tapped the Sheriff’s badge as his eyes passed between Stiles and Derek accusingly. 

“Uh,” said Derek eloquently. “Oh, this,” he raced over to Laura, who was hovering inside the now-closed front door. “This is my sister, Laura. Laura, this is Stiles’ dad, Sheriff Stilinski.” He puffed out his chest proudly at the introduction, a smile overtaking his face as the two shook hands.

“Good to see you, Sheriff,” Laura greeted wryly.

“You too, Laura,” responded John with a grin.

Stiles laughed at the suddenly grumpy look on Derek’s face, and saved the Alpha the trouble of asking himself. “How do you two know each other?”

“When I was training to become the next Alpha, mom made sure to introduce me to all the main authority figures and police officers in Beacon County,” Laura explained with a dismissive wave.

The four stood in the living room for a few seconds after that, all of them unsure how to proceed. 

“Well,” Stiles said with a single clap of his hands. “Pops, why don’t you and Derek take Laura through our war rooms and get her caught up on everything that’s happening while I get some dinner started?”

Laura frowned at the mention of ‘war rooms,’ but followed Derek and the Sheriff nonetheless.

Stiles ambled into the kitchen and took a deep breath, anchoring himself by closing his eyes and leaning on the counter for a few seconds. 

When he opened his eyes, he was unsurprised to find that they were moist. Wiping the tears away, Stiles shook his head free of all thought and got to work making dinner.

Stiles was pleasantly surprised to find that a Derek with Laura was markedly different than a Derek without Laura.

Laura had a way of pulling laughs and jokes and stories out of Derek that left Stiles in awe of her. The first time Derek openly laughed at something Laura had said, there was an awkward silence afterwards from the three of them who were unaccustomed to such a happy display.

The tips of Derek’s ears had gone pink, but Laura quickly changed the subject to yet another story that had the rest of them in stitches in no time.

At some point during the dinner, Derek had pressed his leg against Stiles’. He jerked back when he realized what had happened, but Stiles was having none of that. He simply pressed his leg back against the wolf’s and left it there for the remainder of dinner, reveling in how completely Derek had relaxed at the contact.

“Well, Sheriff,” Laura said, leaning back and patting her full stomach. “Thanks for letting me stay for dinner, but I should get going.”

“Nonsense,” he responded sternly. “You’re staying here. Derek has been while he looks for another place, and Stiles would be happy to give up his room.”

“Oh, he would, would he?” Stiles retorted half-heartedly, knowing he’d give up his room in an instant if it meant Derek and Laura wouldn’t have to separate. 

Laura smiled shyly. “Thank you. But that won’t be necessary, I’ll just share the guest room with Derek.”

“But you snore,” Derek whined, as he got up to start the dishes.

“Oh, please,” Laura dismissed. “Like you, cuddle wolf extraordinaire, would pass up the opportunity to snuggle with your newly-resurrected sister?” 

Derek grimaced at the mention of Laura’s resurrection, but didn’t correct her about the snuggling. When Derek came back to the table to grab more plates, Stiles couldn’t help but mouth ‘cuddle wolf extraordinaire,’ at him obnoxiously, earning him a low, playful growl in response.

Stiles jumped when his phone started buzzing incessantly. At Laura’s raised eyebrow, Stiles shrugged sheepishly. “I’m guessing Isaac just told Erica and Boyd you’re back.”

Laura smiled before her face fell suddenly. “Has – has anyone told Peter?”

The other three shook their heads. 

“Don’t worry,” John said soothingly, gripping Laura’s shoulder. “We can tell him when you’re ready. He won’t be by until Monday.”

Laura sniffled wetly and nodded, standing up to help Derek finish the dishes.

They all went off their respective rooms shortly after. Stiles plopped into bed and laid his head on his pillow, sure he would get a great night’s sleep. Just before he drifted into unconsciousness, the delightful sound of Derek laughing mutedly through the walls hit his ear. 

He fell asleep that night with a smile on his face, and he wasn’t the only one in the Stilinski house to do so.


	22. Blueberry assault

Stiles was delighted to discover that Laura was not a morning person.

He trudged down the stairs, trying hard not to be grumpy about having been woken up before 9:00am on a Sunday, and wandered into the kitchen to try and find the bacon whose enticing smell had woken him in the first place. When he turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, he couldn’t help but laugh at the sight that greeted him.

Derek was sitting on the counter, pelting blueberries at Laura’s inert form. Laura had clearly made it down the stairs, only to collapse on one of the kitchen chairs with her head in her hands. John, who was manning the bacon, was shaking his head fondly at the two.

“Morning, Stiles,” Derek said brightly, sending Stiles a shockingly enthusiastic smile as he continued his blueberry assault on his sister.

Stiles, who was unaccustomed to such a greeting, started stupidly at Derek’s openly happy face until his dad cleared his throat pointedly. “Oh, uh, morning,” he offered Derek with a sleepy wave. He ignored his dad’s questioning glare and opted to take the empty seat beside Laura.

Derek gave up his attack and put the blueberries back down next to John with an apologetic shrug. After picking up the wayward berries form the floor, Derek set about making coffee for Laura and Stiles.

John just grinned at the wolf, shaking his head with a laugh as he added the untainted blueberries to the pancake batter he’d been mixing.

Derek set the two steaming hot mugs down in front of Laura and Stiles, made just how they both liked it; lots of cream and sugar for Stiles, black with a little bit of sugar for Laura.

The scent of the coffee seemed to rouse Laura a bit, and she picked her head up just enough to take a sip.

“Not a morning person, huh?” Stiles asked her wryly, taking a large gulp of his own coffee. He shot Derek a grateful smile as he wrapped his hands around the warm mug.

“Uh uh,” she grumbled in return. 

Stiles had barely taken a second sip before Derek’s ears perked up. Seconds later, Laura bounded to her feet, all signs of drowsiness forgotten.

“What is it?” John asked, abandoning his stirring and stepping around the kitchen counter to join the others. 

“Peter,” Laura growled.

Stiles jumped to action, issuing orders immediately at a whisper. “Laura, wait out back, we may be able to break the news of your return before he sees you. Derek, head him off at the front door and lead him into dad’s office – Laura hasn’t spent much time in there so her scent may not be as strong. Dad, turn off the burners and go with Derek.”

They listened to him without hesitation.

Stiles went out back with Laura, placing a calming hand on her shoulder when he saw that she was trembling. 

“It’s going to be ok,” he told her quietly, but with conviction. “You don’t have to see him right now if you don’t want to. We can make him leave.”

She turned to face Stiles with a broken look on her face. “You don’t understand, Stiles,” she whispered fiercely. “All those years with Derek, there was nothing I wanted more than for Uncle Peter to be ok; to have healed enough to join us in New York. But now that he’s all better… to find out that he –” She trailed off with a whine.

Stiles pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. She embraced him back, both of them ignoring the wet spot her tears left on his collar.

A few minutes later, Laura looked up and pulled back from Stiles, keeping her hand on his forearm so they wouldn’t break contact. “Derek told him,” she said softly. “He wants to see me. Oh!” she exclaimed, laughing suddenly.

“What?” Stiles asked, cocking his head to the side and straining to hear what she was hearing.

“Derek punched him,” she told Stiles through a giggle.

Stiles snorted and waved his hand thoughtlessly. “Who hasn’t?”

Laura rolled her eyes, but sobered quickly. 

“Do you want us to make him leave?” Stiles asked her gently.

She considered the offer, but shook her head. “No, I need to talk to him. Alone.”

Stiles squeezed her shoulder and went back inside to where the other three were congregated in his dad’s office. “Laura’s out back,” he told Peter, gesturing behind himself with his thumb.

Without further provocation, Peter sprinted around Derek, through the kitchen, and into the backyard.

Derek looked like he wanted nothing more than to follow them. Stiles put a hand on the small of his back and guided him into the kitchen and onto one of the chairs. John went back to making breakfast, sneaking not-so-surreptitious glances into the backyard. 

Peter and Laura were barely visible, having moved closer to the side of the house to give themselves the illusion of privacy. Stiles sat down next to Derek, watching the man anxiously as he listened in on their conversation. Every few minutes, Derek would shake his head and stop listening, but the conversation kept pulling him back in.

About ten minutes after the two had disappeared outside, Stiles heard a growl that was loud enough to have been caught by even his human ears. He shared a quick look with Derek before the two rushed out the door, Stiles right on Derek’s heels. He could hear his dad not two steps behind the pair.

They rounded the corner of the backyard and saw Peter and Laura collapsed on their knees. Peter was covered in blood – his own, by the looks of it – holding a sobbing Laura tightly. Laura was beating against his chest feebly having clearly just clawed up Peter before throwing herself into his arms. 

Derek was openly warring with himself, both wanting to join them and wanting to let Laura and Peter have their moment. Stiles stood beside the man and took his hand confidently, breathing out a small sigh of relief when Derek interlocked their fingers. They watched the two on the ground for a few moments before Stiles remembered his father.

Whipping his head around, but not letting go of Derek’s hand, Stiles saw his dad’s back as he retreated into the kitchen.

After a few more minutes, Laura’s sobs had petered off into small hiccups. Peter tightened his grip on her and brought them both to their feet. Laura swallowed roughly and wiped her eyes, stepping back from her uncle.

“This – this doesn’t mean I forgive you, you know,” she told him shakily. 

Peter nodded his head sadly, his face resigned. “I know.”

Laura looked around the backyard, eyes wandering restlessly, until a scent hit her nose. “C’mon,” she gestured towards the door with her head. “John’s making pancakes.”

Peter followed her at a more sedate pace, fixing Stiles and Derek with a look Stiles couldn’t place. He tightened his grip on Derek’s hand and led him inside.

John, it seemed, was determined to make breakfast as normal an affair as possible. Stiles huffed a laugh at his efforts, but helped him begrudgingly.

When they were all seated at the table, with Peter and Laura as far away from each other as possible, Derek paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, as if remembering something suddenly. “Hey, Peter, why did you come here this morning?”

Peter, who had been sneaking surreptitious glances at Laura while cutting his pancakes, eyed Derek for a few seconds before the question caught up to him. “Oh,” his eyes darkened. “I woke up this morning and found a package on my door. There was a message inside.”

Stiles frowned, his mouth stuffed full of bacon. “What message?” he managed, before swallowing obnoxiously at the sight of his dad’s disapproving stare.

“It was from the Alpha Pack.”


	23. One month

Stiles mind was still reeling from breakfast, but he settled in on the couch in the living room to try and get some studying in before the rest of the pack arrived.

Laura joined him in a huff, plopping down onto the couch and throwing her legs over his. She leaned back with her head on the arm and closed her eyes, ignoring Stiles’ attempt to push her legs off.

Stiles rolled his eyes and resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to study around Laura. He propped his textbook up on her shins and lost himself in Chemistry for a while as his dad, Derek, and Peter figured out a plan. He’d tried to join in on the planning session, but his dad had rebuked him with a simple, “Don’t you have a Chem final tomorrow?” And that was that.

Over the next hour, the rest of the pack filtered in slowly. Erica and Boyd arrived first. Erica had burst through the door and sat down by Laura’s head, foregoing introductions and immediately asking her for any embarrassing stories she had of Derek as a kid. Laura took to her right away, and the two giggled like children for the next few minutes.

Boyd had introduced himself to Laura, then asked Derek for a moment out back. Stiles looked up from his textbook curiously, but resumed studying once the two were out of earshot.

Laura paused in the middle of telling Erica about Derek’s disastrous first attempt at making coffee when he was four – he’d put the water where the beans went and the beans where the water went – and let out a soft, “oh.”

Erica smiled ruefully, also listening to something Stiles couldn’t hear. Stiles nudged her with his foot, as much as he could with Laura’s legs still on top of his own. 

After a nod from Laura, Erica explained quietly. “Boyd’s offering to step down as second, if Derek wants Laura to take the position now that she’s back.” She didn’t take her eyes off the back door as she spoke, sending what Stiles could only describe as a loving look towards Boyd.

Stiles smiled at the beta’s thoughtfulness. “Do you want to be second?” he asked Laura at a whisper.

Laura sniffed and shook her head. “It would be an honor, but Derek chose Boyd. The position is his.”

“Yeah, I can’t see Derek taking him up on that,” Stiles agreed fondly.

Laura narrowed her eyes at Stiles’ tone, but said nothing. After a few seconds, she continued her story while Erica sat on the floor, enraptured.

Derek and Boyd returned a few minutes later. Derek went back into John’s office with a parting squeeze to Boyd’s neck, and Boyd joined the others in the living room. Without standing, Laura grabbed Boyd’s hand as he passed her and grasped it tightly in her own. Boyd nodded once and gripped it back before taking the empty seat on Stiles’ other side.

Isaac came in with Lydia and Jackson. They all waved hello vacantly and fell into seats of their own. Isaac groaned when he saw what Stiles was doing, and sat on the floor across the coffee table from him, grabbing Stiles’ notes and studying unhappily. 

Derek, Peter, and John opened the office door and filed into the living room. Surprisingly, it was Peter who ducked into the kitchen to grab a carafe full of coffee and some mugs. Lydia eyed him speculatively, but accepted a mug for herself and Jackson.

Laura swung her legs off of Stiles’ and sat up to make room next to her for Erica to squish in. 

Once everyone was moderately more awake, Derek started the meeting. “We received word from the Alpha Pack,” he stated bluntly. 

Isaac put down the Chem notes and gave his Alpha his full attention.

“They visited Peter last night and left a package on his doorstep. The package included a message for us – for me,” he corrected grumpily. “They are giving us a month. One month to become a real, fully functional pack.” Derek fell silent at that, as if expecting someone to declare that they didn’t want to be part of the pack. 

Boyd spoke up confidently. “Isn’t that what we’re already doing, though? I mean, that’s what we’re working towards, isn’t it?

Derek’s lips quirked up into a small smile. “It is,” he confirmed. 

“Then what’s the big deal?” Jackson asked imperiously.

“The big deal,” Peter sneered, “is that we have a month to get ourselves up to their standards, which I assure you are much higher than any of ours.”

“And…,” Isaac interjected hesitantly. “And what if we don’t live up to their standards?”

“We die,” said Peter simply.

Derek growled at him under his breath. “It’s not quite that simple,” he said in a voice that reassured no one. 

“You’re right, we don’t just die – Derek kills us,” Peter corrected.

“It’s not going to happen,” Derek declared confidently, shooting Peter a warning glare. 

“I don’t think anyone here believes you’d kill them, Derek,” Stiles said softly. “And I think we can all agree that becoming a stronger pack is something we all wanted anyway, right?” He looked around at the rest of the pack congregated around the living room. 

They all nodded with different levels of enthusiasm. 

“Ok, then,” Stiles said. “We’ve got four weeks to become the best pack we can be. Any ideas how we can do that? Just shout them out – no idea is too small.”

They spent the next half hour talking about different ways to increase their strength and pack chemistry. The pack had put Derek, Laura, and Jackson in charge of training, Peter in charge of teaching inter-pack etiquette (which everyone had been a little reluctant about even though he was probably the only one who had been trained in it – until Erica declared that she would get up to speed on the issue and would teach it with Peter), and Boyd and Isaac had been put in charge of the pack’s relationship with the Argents.

Lydia and Stiles had decided to start training with Deaton to increase their banshee and spark strength, respectively. They’d planned to head to the Animal Clinic right after the pack meeting to set up a schedule with the vet.

“Anything else?” Laura asked the room.

“Actually,” Stiles responded, looking at Derek as he spoke. “I have an idea – well, Erica gave me the idea yesterday.”

Erica put her hands up innocently. “Hey, don’t blame me if you hate it; I don’t remember giving him any ideas.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and moved on. “Allison gave Erica a little impromptu archery lesson yesterday.” He waited for the murmurs to die down before continuing. “I think it would be a good idea for all of us to be trained in other forms of combat. Not necessarily archery, though if you’re comfortable with it, Derek, maybe Boyd can bring that up with the Argents?”

Stiles looked at Derek imploringly. After a few moments, the Alpha gave him a terse nod and looked at Boyd. “When are you meeting with them next?”

“This afternoon,” Boyd confirmed. “We’ve almost got the details of the truce ironed out. I can bring the idea of archery lessons up with them when we’re done.”

Derek nodded and Boyd and gestured for Stiles to continue. “I also think we should have at least some training with guns.” He looked at his dad at this point.

John shook his head, but cocked his head to the side as he considered the idea. After blowing out a big breath, he conceded. “Fine. I’ll book some range time for everyone over the next few weeks.”

Stiles nodded, pleased, until he saw Derek roll his eyes and look out the window. “What is it?”

Derek looked at him with pointedly raised eyebrows. “Scott’s here.”

“Oh, shit,” Stiles exclaimed, slapping his hand to his forehead. “I forgot he was coming over today.” He grimaced a little at his dad chiding him for his language and shot to his feet, running to the door hastily.

He flung the door open and waited for Scott to walk up to the front porch. He opened his mouth to speak, but got distracted by the way Scott’s gaze was fixed at a spot over Stiles’ shoulder. He turned around and saw Derek standing behind him with his arms folded over his chest.

“Scott,” Derek greeted formally. “Come in. You should probably be a part of this conversation, too.”


	24. For sure dead

“You’re his what?!” Scott exclaimed, pacing around the room. 

“His emissary, Scott,” Stiles repeated calmly. The rest of the pack was watching the two with varying degrees of amusement. 

Derek, who hadn’t moved from his position leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest, began doling out orders in an attempt to diffuse some of the tension. “Boyd, Isaac, why don’t you two head over to the Argent’s? Peter, Erica, head to the vault and see what you can dig up that might help us strengthen the pack – you can set up shop at Peter’s place." (“Yeah, I’m going to go chaperone this particular field trip,” said John). Derek opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off by Laura.

“This one,” she gestured to Jackson, “has been vibrating out of his skin since the coffee kicked in.” She walked across the room and stood next to the armchair he shared with Lydia. “Come on, you two, we’re going to get a jump start on training.”

They stood up without complaint and headed out the door behind the others. Before shutting it behind her, Lydia paused and looked back at Stiles. “You’ll call me when you’re done here so we can head to Deaton’s?”

Stiles nodded in the affirmative and turned his attention back to Scott, who had stopped his pacing to listen to Derek order the pack out of the house, but had resumed once the three of them were alone.

“Scotty?” Stiles tried tentatively, looking towards Derek anxiously when the boy didn’t respond.

Scott exhaled sharply. “I just – I don’t understand. Six months ago, you hated the guy, and now you’re his emissary?”

“I never hated him,” Stiles countered immediately.

Scott fixed Stiles with a disbelieving glare that was so reminiscent of Derek that Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

After composing himself, Stiles elaborated. “I never hated him. There were times when I didn’t trust him, or when I thought he was wrong. But I never hated him.”

“And you trust him now?” Scott scoffed.

“Yes.” Stiles steadfastly avoided looking at Derek as he spoke, not wanting to see the wolf’s reaction to his words.

When Scott didn’t speak for almost a minute, Stiles took it upon himself to try to come at the conversation from a different angle. “What’s really going on here, Scott? You’re, like, the king of giving people second chances. You literally always see the good in people first. Why do you have this big mental block when it comes to Derek?”

Stiles finally looked over to the corner where Derek had been lurking, only to find that the man had slipped out of the room while Stiles was talking, to give the two of them some privacy. 

Scott sat down on the couch and buried his head in his hands, looking utterly defeated. “Idontwannaloseyou.”

Stiles snorted. “What was that, buddy?”

Scott huffed and raised his head slightly. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

Sitting down next to his best friend, Stiles sighed. “Scotty, you’re my brother. I mean, yeah, sometimes you’re an idiot, and sometimes we fight, but you’re family. If you’re going to lose me, it’s not going to be because of Derek, okay? It’ll be entirely because of your own stubbornness.” He bumped his shoulder against Scott’s to try and ease some of the weight of his words, but they both knew Stiles was right.

“I guess I’m just having trouble seeing Derek as the good guy,” Scott admitted morosely. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, but wrapped his arm around Scott’s shoulder. “Well, we need to change that. You’re coming to the pack meeting tomorrow night, right?”

“Stiles –”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything; I just think it would be good for you to see Derek interacting with the pack. And besides, now is not the time for us to appear divided.”

Sidetracked, Scott latched on to the mention of the Alpha Pack. “Did that note really say they wanted Derek to kill us?”

Stiles shook his head. “Well, no. That’s just what our research came up with. The Alphas have been terrorizing packs all across the country for years. They test the packs and if they don’t meet all their standards, the Alpha Pack kills them. But sometimes, they get the Alpha to kill his or her pack and join them.”

Scott whistled lowly. “That’s crazy.” He stood up suddenly, having made a decision. “Alright, I’ll be here tomorrow.” He held up his hand and pointed at Stiles sternly at the sight of Stiles’ happy dance. “But no promises! I’m doing this for you, not because I want to join Derek’s pack.”

Stiles stopped dancing, but grinned wildly. “Good enough for me,” he responded with a shrug. 

Scott rolled his eyes at Stiles’ enthusiasm, but looked like a large weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Hey,” he said suddenly, as if something had just occurred to him. “How did you know all that about the Alpha Pack?”

“Oh,” said Stiles lamely. “I don’t think you’re quite ready to see our war rooms.”

“War. Rooms,” Scott repeated flatly.

Stiles clicked his tongue and flailed his hand towards his dad’s office. “One for the Alpha Pack and one for Gerard Argent,” he finished, with an uncoordinated wave up the stairs towards his room. 

“Oh!” Scott plopped back down onto the couch and leaned towards Stiles excitedly. “That’s one of the things I wanted to tell you today – Gerard’s dead.”

Derek burst back into the room with a frown fit to rival the very first one he’d ever leveled Stiles and Scott with back when they trespassed on his property in the Preserve. “He’s what?”

Scott nodded enthusiastically. “Dead. Like, for sure dead. I went over to Allison’s house this morning and they told me they found the body last night.”

Derek whipped out his phone, no doubt texting Boyd and Isaac to make sure they got confirmation themselves. 

Stiles’ mind was racing. “And you’re just telling us this now? Wait, nevermind.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Hey, man, any way we can reschedule our bro time? It’s just –”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Scott cut him off earnestly. Stiles was reminded suddenly exactly why they were best friends in the first place as he threw his arms around the beta.

“You’re the best, Scotty. Hey, school ends on Wednesday, why don’t you come over after last period?”

“Sure thing,” Scott replied, standing up and heading for the door. “See you tomorrow.” He shot a wave over his shoulder at Stiles, but paused in the doorway to turn around. “Bye, Derek,” he said uncertainly.

Derek sent him a warm smile. “See you tomorrow, Scott.”

Scott seemed taken aback by the affectionate farewell, but shook it off and left without another word.

Stiles, whose eyes had gone glassy at the sight of Derek’s bunny teeth, was shaken out of his reverie by Derek’s pointed cough. “Don’t you have someplace to be?” he asked with a wicked grin, as if he knew exactly what had caused Stiles to momentarily lose himself.

Stiles shot out of his seat, stumbling over the leg of the coffee table in his haste. Derek’s hands steadied him, but pulled back immediately once Stiles regained his balance. The two pointedly looked anywhere but at each other as Stiles whipped out his phone to call Lydia and ran out the door with his keys.

Twenty minutes later, Stiles found himself going through the front door of the vet’s office for once. 

“Ah, yes,” said Deaton, amused. “Derek said I should be expecting the two of you today. You haven’t been practicing any more spells, have you, Stiles?” He opened the gate to the back and led them into the exam room, gesturing to two chairs opposite his desk.

“Nope,” Stiles swore, taking a seat next to Lydia.

“Good. Now, Lydia,” he said, turning his attention to the banshee. “I do not claim to be an expert in the field, but I understand you would like to learn more about your banshee abilities?”

Lydia nodded primly, her face set in determination.

Deaton sent the two a small smile. “Very well. Before we begin, however, there is one matter to which we must attend.”

Stiles looked down at his stomach as he felt the muted bond tug again. “You know who it is, don’t you?”

Deaton inclined his head in a nod. “I believe I do, yes. I have been reaching out to my contacts – the same contacts to whom I reached out after the fire. Most came back with the same information. There was one, though, a witch in Tennessee, who had recently heard rumors of a strong born wolf who had, up until about a month ago, been laying low in Brazil.”

“And you think this could be the Hale that Stiles is feeling?” Lydia asked.

“Yes. After looking into it further, I am certain that one of the Hales did, indeed, escape the fire.” Deaton paused, as Deaton was wont to do, causing Stiles to groan impatiently. 

“And?” he prompted. “Who is it? Which one got out?”

“Derek’s little sister,” Deaton responded somberly. “Cora Hale.”


	25. Good luck

It had only been an hour since Deaton had dropped the Cora bomb on him, but Stiles felt as though a lifetime had passed. He was sitting in a comfy chair in the vet’s office with his eyes closed, trying and failing to get a better read on the pack bond.

Lydia was sitting silently next to him. Stiles could practically feel how badly she wanted to help, though neither of them knew quite what to do.

Eventually, Stiles sighed. “It’s no use, I can’t get anything new from the bond right now. We might as well do what we came here to do.”

Deaton looked up from his paperwork as calmly as if they were discussing the weather. “Ah, yes. You both would like to set up schedules to begin your training, is that right?”

The two nodded, though far less enthusiastically as they might have only an hour ago.

They set up a schedule through the summer and both began their first sessions by reading up on the practical side of their powers. Lydia in particular would not be attempting to manipulate any physical manifestations of her power for at least a week, since the power of a banshee was less stable than that of a spark.

Lydia accepted this without complaint, though Stiles knew she would soon lose herself in her research so she could cut her waiting period down to as little as a few days.

He shot her a knowing smirk, which she artfully ignored.

They spent a few more hours reading and researching, until they were interrupted by the arrival of Laura and Jackson. Jackson helped Lydia take her books out to his car and the two left shortly after for dinner.

Laura sat in Lydia’s vacated seat and fixed Stiles with an expectant look.

Deaton just rolled his eyes at the two and prepared the clinic for closing.

“What?” Stiles finally asked when he realized he couldn’t ignore her any longer.

Laura raised her eyebrows. “You know what. I want to know what’s got you so high strung, you look like you’re about to snap in half.”

Stiles shook his head sadly. “I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything,” Laura countered earnestly, leaning forward and placing her hand on his forearm. “Unless it has something to do with the monumental crush you have on my brother. Then I don’t want to hear it,” she finished with a wicked grin.

“Ha, I – wha… you’re crazy,” Stiles stuttered. He looked up and saw the teasing smile on her face and found himself relaxing instantly. 

Laura kept quiet, letting Stiles decide how the conversation would continue. After a few seconds, he nodded, only slightly paying attention to Deaton locking up as he left out the front door. “When I found you in the woods, I told you that the pack bond led me there, right?”

Laura nodded, silently encouraging him to continue.

“Well, what I didn’t tell you was that there was a second bond. Another Hale.”

She gasped, her face falling vulnerably as she waited with bated breath for Stiles to go on.

Stiles cleared his throat. “Deaton believes it’s Cora.”

Tears pooled in Laura’s eyes at the sound of her sister’s name. “Is – how sure are you?”

“We’re certain.”

“Oh.” The word sounded like it had been punched out of her. “Where? Where is she?” Laura looked around wildly, as if Cora may have been hiding behind Deaton’s desk.

Stiles held out a hand to steady her. “We don’t know yet. There’s something blocking me from being able to find her.”

Laura took a deep breath and wiped her face with both hands. “We have to tell Derek,” she said, rising from her chair.

“No,” Stiles responded with finality, standing up with her. “No, we can’t. Not until we know more.”

“But, Stiles –”

“What if we’re wrong, Laura? Derek can’t handle losing Cora twice. You didn’t see him after he lost you. He was – he was a completely different person. Closed off, miserable, a classic martyr. If we’re wrong, and we give him this hope, only to take it away again? He’s going to do something stupid. Like, hand-himself-over-to-the-Alpha-Pack stupid.”

Laura shook her head and began pacing around the room. Stiles watched her for several minutes, silently hoping she would understand.

Eventually she stopped pacing and fixed Stiles with an unreadable look. “You really do care about him, don’t you?”

Stiles felt his face heat up, and he knew Laura would be able to hear the increase in his heart rate. “Well, yeah,” he said airily, waiving his hands. “We’re pack.”

Laura rolled her eyes, but agreed to keep Cora’s status a secret for now. “But Stiles,” she pointed at him resolutely. “We need to find her quickly. I want my little sister back.”

Stiles nodded softly in understanding and the two left without another word. The drive home was quiet, but not uncomfortable. 

Laura helped him haul in the new books Deaton had given him. They had just finished unloading them in the living room when Derek appeared from upstairs. 

Laura ran into his arms and engulfed him in a fierce hug. Derek’s eyebrows knitted together, but he held Laura without question. 

Stiles ducked into the kitchen to give them some privacy, only to be joined by Derek a few minutes later. 

Derek washed his hands silently and moved to stand next to Stiles, effortlessly fitting into Stiles’ cooking routine. Together they chopped, prepared, and cooked dinner, all without saying a word.

Laura rejoined them just in time to set the table. Once they were seated, Stiles broke the comfortable silence. “Where’s my dad? Still at Peter’s?”

To his surprise, Laura chuckled. “Yeah. Erica said Peter is teaching her how to make lasagna. Your dad stayed to supervise.”

Stiles smiled and looked at Derek. Derek’s content smile took Stiles’ breath away momentarily, but neither wolf at the table commented on the change in Stiles’ scent or heart rate.

“Boyd called while you guys were out,” Derek said. “The truce with the Argents has been finalized, and they even agreed to help train the pack in archery.”

Stiles let out a low whistle. “Go Boyd. I didn’t think it’d be that easy.”

Derek inclined his head in agreement. “Also, I cleared out your room of all the Gerard stuff. We were able to confirm that he’s dead, so no need to keep jamming up your room with pictures and info on him.”

“Oh, thanks. Yeah, I have to admit… it was not fun going to sleep at night with all those photos of him up on the board.” Stiles shuddered.

They finished dinner quickly so Stiles could study for his Chem final. Stiles sat at the dinner table after it had been cleared and stared at the textbook cover for a few minutes. How could this be what he’s focused on? With Cora, his spark training, and the Alpha Pack closing in; how was a Chemistry final the thing he had to spend his time on?

With a weary sigh, Stiles started in on his studying. 

Stiles awoke the next morning to the sound of his alarm blaring shrilly in his ear. He didn’t remember going to bed, and he certainly didn’t remember setting his alarm.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Stiles thought back on the night before. 

He had been studying, he remembered that much. Then, nothing.

Stiles looked around and realized that he must have fallen asleep while studying. Someone had clearly brought him upstairs and put him to bed. His jeans were still on, but his belt and his shoes had been removed. There was a blanket tossed over his body to stave off the cold.

Smiling to himself at the thought that it might have been Derek, Stiles found himself reenergized, and got ready for the day.

He stopped by the kitchen and found Derek making him pancakes, pointedly not meeting his eye. Stiles ate gratefully and made sure to grip Derek’s shoulder on the way out. 

Stiles was surprised when a strong hand gripped the back of his neck in response. He found himself staring into Derek’s bright red eyes, closer than he had any right to be.

He dropped his hand from Derek’s shoulder and stood stock still, waiting to see just what Derek would do.

Derek leaned forward and for one heart-stopping moment, Stiles thought the man might kiss him. But Derek simply buried his nose in Stiles’ neck and took a greedy sniff.

Stiles laughed when the scruff on Derek’s cheek tickled his collarbone, breaking Derek out of whatever moment he had been stuck in. 

The Alpha pulled back immediately, dropping his hand and looking down as if embarrassed.

“You going all nonverbal on me this morning, buddy?” Stiles teased, ducking his head to try and meet Derek’s eyes.

Derek looked up, annoyed, but Stiles saw the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. He met Stiles eyes and his face turned soft. “Good luck on your final, Stiles.”

Stiles just grinned and grabbed his bag, leaving the house with the smile still etched on his face. 

The smile was still present when he pulled into the school parking lot, and all the way to his Chemistry classroom. It only waned when Isaac took one, long sniff and asked him loudly why he smelled like he had rolled around in Derek’s laundry. 

Stiles swatted the back of Isaac’s head good-naturedly, and thought for the first time in a while that everything might actually work out.


	26. Spark stuff

After finishing his final, Stiles decided to ditch the rest of his classes and head to the Animal Clinic. His teachers never checked attendance on the last few days of school anyway, and he needed to go somewhere quiet to try to figure out what was blocking Cora’s pack bond.

The jingle of the door let Deaton know he had arrived, so Stiles didn’t bother announcing himself as he walked back into the office. He slung his bag off his shoulder and sat down on the plush chair in the corner of the room. 

Stiles could see Deaton in the old storage room, cleaning out one of the cat cages, and nodded at him when Deaton looked up and saw him. Deaton just returned the nod and got back to work.

Silencing his cell phone, Stiles tucked his legs under himself and closed his eyes, focusing all of his energy on the weak bond inside of him. He felt a small tug every once in a while, but nothing substantial.

After what only felt like fifteen minutes, Stiles felt a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him out of his concentration. He blinked open his eyes groggily, having gotten lost in his search for Cora. 

Before looking up at whoever had awoken him, Stiles searched inward once more and found Cora’s bond to be in the same condition it had been when he started. With a frustrated huff, Stiles tilted his head up to see who was with him.

“Oh,” he exclaimed when met with Derek’s Alpha red eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Derek frowned, crouching down so they were eye level. “You weren’t answering your phone, and Scott said he saw you leave school early. We didn’t know where you were.” 

Stiles cocked his head to the side in confusion and grabbed his phone. “It’s not like I was missing, it’s only been – oh my god it’s almost three.” His eyes widened as he took the time on his phone’s screen; he’d been looking for Cora for almost four hours. He unlocked it and saw that he had ten missed call, three voicemails, and almost forty text messages waiting for him. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly.

Derek’s eyes cleared and he stood up to full height. “What were you doing, anyway?” he asked. He sounded annoyed, but Stiles ducked his head and smirked when he realized Derek had actually been worried about him.

“Oh, you know, spark stuff,” he dismissed airily.

Thankfully, Deaton had chosen that moment to make his presence known. “Ah, Derek, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve learned a little more about Laura’s resurrection.”

Derek turned his full attention to Deaton at that. “And?” he prompted impatiently when the vet didn’t immediately elaborate.

“And I took a look at a translation I found of the spell Stiles used. It appears that you unearthing Laura’s body and reburying it was integral to Stiles’ spell working.”

“That’s all it took?” Derek asked incredulously. “I just had to rebury her while Stiles said a few words.”

Deaton made a hesitant noise. “Well, not just that. I assume while you were taking part in the demolition, you cut yourself?”

Derek nodded.

“The blood from your wound, however fresh, mixed with the grave dirt that was no doubt still on Laura’s body while you carried her, allowed Stiles’ spell to work. Alpha blood, fresh grave dirt, and the power of a Spark.” He clasped his hands together and waited for Derek’s reaction.

“That sounds too easy,” Derek said, eying Deaton suspiciously. 

Stiles stood up and walked swiftly to Derek’s side. “We’ll take easy. We deserve some easy.”

Derek snorted in amusement, but sobered as he met Deaton’s eyes. “Alright. But I’d like to take a look at that translation myself.”

“Of course,” Deaton replied. “Anytime.”

Derek nodded and turned towards Stiles. “The pack meeting’s in an hour. You need a ride home?”

Stiles shook his head. “Nah, I’ve got my jeep,” he replied, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb towards the front parking lot.

Derek bit his lip and nodded again, more stiltedly, leaving without another word.

“I’ll miss you too, buddy,” Stiles called out to his retreating back, turning to walk back to his comfy chair.

This time, he set an alarm on his phone so he wouldn’t lose himself and miss the meeting. He sent out a quick ‘I’m alive,’ text to the pack and settled in to search for Cora some more.

The shrill sound of his alarm broke his concentration half an hour later. He stood up, stretching the ache out of his muscles. 

Nothing.

No sign of Cora.

He huffed in frustration and grabbed his bag, driving back to his house distractedly for the meeting. He was so distracted, in fact, that he missed the black SUV that indicated the presence of an Argent in his driveway.

Stiles entered his house and stopped short at the sight of everyone in his living room. His eyes immediately found Allison and Scott, sharing the armchair and looking more than a little uncomfortable. Stiles stifled a laugh when his gaze found Chris, standing off to the side, looking like he was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.

Stiles bit his lip through his smile and walked over to stand next to Derek, who seemed somewhat displeased. He put a hand on Derek’s back without thought. When he realized what he’d done, he made to pull back, but stopped himself when he realized that Derek had relaxed under his touch.

He leaned in towards Derek’s ear and whispered, “Do you think this is the right crowd to suggest spin the bottle?”

Derek’s face looked affronted, but his shoulders lost their tension. There was a smattering of chuckles from the wolves, while the humans just looked around, confused.

Derek rolled his eyes and leaned into Stiles. “Thanks,” he whispered into the boy’s hair before pulling away to stand in the middle of the room to begin the meeting.

Stiles ignored Scott’s incredulous face at the display, and gave Derek his undivided attention. He made the mistake of looking at Laura first, who winked at him lewdly. Stiles blushed, but thankfully everyone was too busy looking at Derek at that point to pay him any mind. 

“So first thing’s first, we have a new truce with the Argents,” Derek said with a nod towards Chris and Allison. 

They spent the next ten minutes going over the terms of the truce. Derek deferred that portion of the meeting to Boyd, who worked with Allison to explain just what the truce meant to the pack, and what it would mean to the hunters in surrounding areas.

After that, Derek discussed plans for the new pack house on the Hale house land, the newest threat from the Alpha pack, training schedules, and the plans for archery and other weapons training.

By the time the meeting was over, Stiles stomach was grumbling. “Pizza, anyone?”

The pack grumbled their assent, while Chris politely declined and headed out, leaving Allison with them after the two had a silent conversation across the room from each other.

After ordering enough pizza to feed a small army, Stiles finally gave in and found Scott engaging Allison in a whispered conversation.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, sitting down by Scott’s feet. He looked up and shot Allison a smile.

Scott leaned forward with his forearms on his knees. “Hey,” he replied nervously. 

“So, what did you think?”

Scott’s face donned a look of reluctant concession. “It was so… normal.”

To Scott’s surprise, Stiles laughed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Scotty.” He used Scott’s knee as leverage to pull himself up to his feet. “Alright, well, buckle in. We’re about to pick a movie and things might get ugly.”

“No, they won’t, because we’re watching The Notebook,” Lydia chimed in, not even trying to pretend she hadn’t been listening. 

“We’re not watching The Notebook,” Jackson insisted immediately. 

Laura laughed and walked over towards Jackson, throwing her arm around his shoulder. “What do you care? You’re not even gonna watch it – we’ve got training schedules to attend to.”

Jackson perked up. “Oh, ok, watch whatever you want,” he said as he and Laura disappeared into John’s office. 

John and Peter came in from the kitchen holding two bowls of popcorn each. John handed one of his two to Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, who had commandeered the couch, and the other to Scott and Allison on the armchair.

Derek, who had plopped into the other armchair after the meeting, immediately vacated the chair and gestured for John to sit down.

John shot him a warm smile and a “thanks, son,” before sitting down with a groan. Peter, returning from John’s office with one less bowl of popcorn, took the last one and sat it on John’s lap before sitting down on the chair’s armrest.

Lydia popped in the movie and turned around with a frown as she took in the seating arrangements. Erica sighed and grabbed her hand, pulling her down so she was squished in between herself and Boyd. Lydia smiled and squirmed around for a minute before Boyd chuckled and just threw an arm around her. Lydia sent him a radiant smile before settling in more comfortably.

Derek sat on the floor at Erica’s feet, patting the space next to him in an invitation for Stiles to join him.

Stiles settled in, a little closer than he probably should have, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret the decision when the warmth of Derek’s shoulder pressing against his sent a shudder down his back.

The rest of the night passed in comfortable silence, even from Scott and Allison. Scott surprised everyone by giving Derek a brief hug goodbye.

School ended and Stiles and Scott finally got to have their bro date. Scott agreed to sit down and talk to Derek, but gave no indication as to his pack status. Laura and Jackson added Scott and Allison both to the training schedules, which had started the day after the pack meeting.

Boyd and Lydia turned out to be the most adept at archery, and Erica and Isaac wiped the floor with everyone during their shooting lessons with John. 

Laura was learning where she fit in with the pack, and, to everyone’s surprise, formed a fast friendship with Jackson. Stiles suspected Jackson was secretly ecstatic at the prospect of having a big sister type around, but he didn’t dare voice his opinion around Jackson.

With summer came a lot of free time for them to bond as a pack, and to train for any possible altercation with the Alphas. Stiles felt the pack bonds grow stronger and stronger with every passing day.

One morning, about two weeks into the four the Alpha Pack had given them, Stiles woke up to a strange sensation in his stomach. He hadn’t practiced any magic outside his sessions with Deaton, but it felt sort of like it had when he’d tried potion work for the first time. The numb, tingling sensation lasted for about an hour, until he felt something snap inside of him.

When he realized what had happened, he called out for Derek, who came running in from the guest room. 

“What, what is it?” he asked wildly, scanning the room for a threat. 

“It’s a pack bond, Derek, I feel a new pack bond,” Stiles said, his eyes not leaving his stomach.

Derek closed his eyes, searching for the bond as well. After a few seconds, he gasped. “Allison.”

Stiles let out a wet laugh. “Well, go,” he said, shooing the Alpha out of his room. “Go talk to her.”

Derek looked dumbstruck, but pulled himself together and shot out to the room in search of their newest pack member. 

Stiles sat back on his bed, reveling in the feeling of having another bond inside of him. He absently checked on the others, only to bolt upright when he realized something else had changed. “Laura!”

Laura ran into his room just as Derek had before. “What, is it Allison? Is the bond ok?”

Stiles shook his head frantically. “Allison’s fine. It’s Cora.”

Laura’s eyes went wide as she sat on Stiles’ bed, leaning forward intently.

“There’s nothing blocking her bond anymore; I can feel her.”


	27. A plan

“What are you waiting for? We have to go find her,” Laura insisted, jumping off the bed and tugging at Stiles’ arm. 

Stiles went with her, but dug his heels in at his door. “Laura, think about this. We need to figure out why I can feel her all of a sudden.”

“Why does that matter?” she asked him shortly. 

“Laura.” Stiles looked at her imploringly, silently begging her to slow down and think.

Laura’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “I just want to see my sister, Stiles.”

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She sagged into his embrace and emitted a low whine. “I know,” he told her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “But we have to be smart about this. What if it’s a trap?” 

Laura nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, ok, you’re right. Should we head to Deaton’s?”

Stiles shook his head and stepped backwards, leading Laura down the stairs. “Nah, he’s not there. He went out of town to track down a book he needs for Lydia’s banshee training. He won’t be back for another two days.”

“Can we call him?” Laura asked, taking out two bowls and spoons while Stiles grabbed the milk and Fruit Loops.

“We can try, but he said he wouldn’t have reception for most of the trip. Apparently there’s a witch with the book he’s looking for in Nevada, but she cloaks her house so electronics won’t work within a ten mile radius,” Stiles responded, begrudgingly impressed with the witch’s power.

They ate their breakfast fitfully, both trying to figure out why Cora’s bond was suddenly free. 

“Damn it,” Stiles said, defeated. “Someone must have been cloaking it. There’s no other explanation that makes sense.”

“But, but maybe it was Cora who was cloaking it?” Laura suggested half-heartedly. “Not someone else?”

Stiles gripped her shoulder as he passed her, grabbing her empty bowl and putting it in the sink with his own. “I doubt that. I think someone was keeping her hidden. The same someone who wants us to find her now.”

“We should tell Derek,” Laura insisted.

Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, distracted momentarily by how long it had been getting. “I think you’re right. Laura…” he trailed off, not sure how exactly to tell her what else he’d realized when the bond had opened.

“What?” Laura stood up and rounded the counter so they were standing only a foot apart. Her eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown at the sight of Stiles clearly warring with himself. She reached out and gripped the back of his neck, like she and Derek had started doing with the wolves in the pack to calm them down.

Stiles looked down at his feet, but felt himself relax under Laura’s grip. He blew a big breath out, then raised his eyes to meet Laura’s. “Cora’s in Beacon Hills.”

Laura whined and dropped her hand, looking around wildly. Knowing what she was about to do, Stiles reached out and grabbed her wrist. 

“Look, I know your instincts are telling you to run all over town trying to find her, but we have to be smart about this. Why is the bond free now? Where exactly is she? Who has her? We need to answer all of these questions before we just run off with no plan.”

Laura closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before responding. “Call a pack meeting,” she demanded with her eyes still closed. “Now.”

Stiles let her go and ran back upstairs to grab his phone. He sent out a text to the pack group chat calling for an emergency meeting, then went back downstairs to make sure Laura wasn’t doing anything stupid.

He was relieved to find her still in the house, though she was pacing so agitatedly in the living room that Stiles was worried she might burn a hole in the floor.

Peter burst through the door first, locking eyes on Stiles and running to the boy’s side immediately. “Is everything ok?” He reached out as if to touch Stiles’ shoulder, but pulled back a second later when his eyes lost their ice blue hue. He took a deep breath and scented the room, sensing no danger.

“A little dramatic, there, Uncle Peter,” Laura said dryly. 

“Well,” he replied haughtily, smoothing down the front of his shirt and stepping back from Stiles to give the boy some room. “There would be no need for dramatics if our young Stiles here would be a little more descriptive in his SOS texts.”

Stiles stepped forward and clapped him on the shoulder before plopping down onto the couch. “Sorry about that. Just needed to get everyone here ASAP.”

Peter rolled his eyes, but looked around furtively, as if still worried there may be a threat in the house.

The rest of the pack filed in over the next ten minutes, including Allison, who was smiling and chatting with Derek amicably as they exited the Camero and walked into the house.

When everyone was settled, with the exception of John who was at work, and Scott and Chris, who were not technically pack yet, Stiles stood. “Alright, well, first things first, we have a new official pack member,” he said, gesturing to Allison with a grin that threatened to split his face. 

Derek puffed up his chest proudly, while Jackson smiled and swooped forward to pull Allison into a tight hug. The rest of the pack hooted and clapped happily. Allison seemed overwhelmed at the positive reaction, so Erica took pity on her and pulled her off to the side to stand with her and Boyd.

“Now,” Stiles started again, more anxiously. Derek caught the change in his scent and subconsciously started moving closer to the boy. “There’s something else I need to tell you all.” 

Derek stopped when he was an arm’s length from Stiles, his eyebrows forming a v on his forehead. 

Stiles cleared his throat. “In addition to Allison’s new pack bond, there’s another bond I can feel, belonging to someone who’s not in this room.”

There was muttering from the rest of the pack. Stiles saw Derek close his eyes, checking his own bonds. He opened his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t feel anyone else, Stiles. Who is it?”

Stiles looked down at his feet, then back up at Derek. “It’s Cora, Derek. She’s alive.”

No one spoke for several moments. It was Peter who eventually broke the silence with a choked off whisper. “That’s not possible. She was in the house that day. I – I remember her screaming.”

Laura’s eyes shone with tears as she rounded the couch and stood next to her uncle, reaching out to put a comforting arm over his shoulder. It was the first time anyone in the pack had seen her touch him since she learned he had killed her.

“Deaton has a contact who knew of a born wolf who’d been laying low in Brazil since the fire. They lost track of her a little over a month ago, but the contact was sure it was Cora,” Stiles said confidently, though his hands were shaking.

“You – you can really feel her?” Derek asked brokenly. 

Stiles nodded. “And I know where she is.”

An hour later they had a plan. A plan Stiles hated.

“I’m not letting you guys go in there without me,” he exclaimed for what felt like the hundredth time. 

They’d discovered that the only building near where Stiles felt the pull was an old abandoned bank. It was one of three places in town where the pack had smelled the Alphas, so they had to assume the Alpha Pack had Cora.

The plan was for the wolves to go in, full force and guns blazing, to break her out. Stiles had made charms to hide their scent during his last session with Deaton, which he’d handed out before being told he wasn’t allowed to go with them.

“This is ridiculous,” Stiles said. “How come Allison gets to go, but Lydia and I have to stay here?” He was fully aware of how childish his argument sounded, but there was really no way around that.

“You’re not going,” Derek replied firmly, a touch of Alpha red in his eyes. “We need Allison and Boyd to man the bows.”

“I can shoot,” Stiles argued. “And Lydia’ great with a bow.”

Lydia stood next to Stiles, nodding indignantly. “I don’t like the idea of the two of us just staying here, safe and sound, while the rest of you go off to get yourselves killed.”

“No one’s going to die,” Derek said, more softly. “We’re not going to fight them unless we have to. Our primary mission is to get Cora, and get out. If they can’t smell us coming, that gives us an advantage.”

Derek stepped forward and pressed his hand to Stiles’ cheek, cupping his jaw gently. Stiles hated himself for leaning into the touch, given how angry he was.

“We’ll be back in half an hour,” he promised Stiles.

Before Stiles or Lydia could respond, he and the rest of the pack were out the door.

“Are we gonna talk about that?” Lydia asked with a wicked smirk, all indignation apparently forgotten at the prospect of embarrassing Stiles. 

Stiles raised his eyebrows innocently. “About what?”

Lydia just raised her hand and cupped Stiles’ other cheek. Even though she wasn’t a werewolf, Erica and Peter’s etiquette classes had clearly taught her not to cover an Alpha’s scent when he scent-marked a member of the back. “About this,” she said pointedly. 

He shoved her hand off with a laugh and the two sat down on the couch. After a moment, their frustration was back in full force.

They spent the next ten minutes talking about how unfair their current arrangement was, until Stiles’ phone rang. “Peter?” he answered in confusion, placing the phone on speaker and setting it on the coffee table. He and Lydia leaned in anxiously towards the phone.

“Stiles, we’ve got Cora,” Peter said, his voice sounding strained. 

“That’s good news, Peter, why do you sound worried?” Lydia asked with a frown.

“It was too easy. The Alpha’s weren’t even here.”

Stiles looked at Lydia, perplexed. “What do you mean? No one was guarding her?”

“No, she was –” Peter stopped talking and cursed into the phone. “Stiles, Lydia, get out of there, now!”

Without question, Stiles grabbed the phone and followed Lydia to the front door. He could hear Peter screaming about a trap as they sprinted outside.

Stiles heard Lydia scream and saw a woman, half-shifted, lift her off the ground. Lydia, who had grabbed the keys to the jeep on her way out, turned in the wolf’s grip and stabbed her in the neck with Stiles’ car key.

Stiles felt a surge of pride before a blow to the back of his head caused his vision to black out. The last thing he heard before he hit the ground was the sound of Lydia using her banshee scream on their attackers. His last cognizant thought was that he hoped they wouldn’t take her too.


	28. Devastation

Derek let out a mighty roar, shaking the foundation of the bank. His eyes shone Alpha red and his fangs and claws were out in full force. He could hear Peter screaming into the phone, but knew it was no use; the Alpha Pack had taken Stiles and Lydia.

Jackson shifted into his beta form and started running with a howl of his own.

“Dammit,” Peter muttered before taking off after Jackson.

Cora looked around, confused. “What’s going on? Who was Uncle Peter talking to?”

Laura, who was still holding Cora tightly to her chest, was torn between answering Cora and running over to help calm their brother. Thankfully, Erica picked up on her dilemma and pulled Cora aside to answer her questions.

As Laura approached Derek, she took a second to take stock of the rest of the pack. 

Allison had whipped out her phone and was presumably calling her father, Isaac had shrunk into the corner and was being softly coaxed out by Boyd. Peter had caught up to Jackson and was patting him on the back awkwardly as the boy snarled and cried.

“Derek,” Laura whispered as she took small, quiet steps towards her brother. Derek didn’t look up. His head was down and his chest was heaving. When Laura reached him, she hesitated before placing her hand in between his shoulder blades.

He looked up at that; red eyes shining brightly in the dim vault. The rage was beginning to wear off and was quickly being replaced by devastation. 

“No,” said Laura firmly. “No, you can’t fall apart, Derek, your pack needs you right now. We all need you.”

Derek looked absolutely gutted. “Laura,” he croaked. 

Before he could get another word out, there was a loud crack, followed by the scent of magic. Derek and Laura whipped their heads towards the sound and were shocked to see Lydia standing in the open vault door, looking like she had no idea how she’d gotten there. Her eyes were wide and she was brandishing what looked like a set of car keys. There was blood dripping down her arm.

The sight of the blood caused Derek to rush forward. He gripped the back of Lydia’s neck tightly and gently coaxed the keys out of her hand. She gave them up willingly once she realized who she was with, and allowed Derek to turn her arm every which way to check for injuries.

“It’s not mine,” she told him croakily. “I – I stabbed one of them in the neck before –”

She was cut off by Derek pulling her into his arms. He saw Laura rush off, calling out to Jackson, and stepped away so he wouldn’t get in between the two of them when Jackson arrived seconds later. 

Jackson rushed in the door and looked around like a mad person before locking eyes on Lydia. He swept her off her feet with the force of his embrace, before pulling back slightly and placing a hand on either cheek, eying her unmarred face reverently. 

Derek wanted to leave them to their reunion, but he needed answers. “Lydia, I need to know what happened.”

Jackson growled under his breath, but stepped back, grabbing Lydia’s hand so they wouldn’t break contact.

“I don’t know,” Lydia replied shakily. “Peter told us to get out of the house, so we ran. I’d gotten the keys so when one of them grabbed me, I just acted on instinct and stabbed her in the neck. I looked over at Stiles and one of them had hit him over the head from behind.” She stopped when Derek growled loudly. 

Cora rushed to his side and wrapped her arm around his waist. He reciprocated immediately with an arm around her shoulder, and leaned in towards her calming scent.

Lydia waited for a nod from Derek before continuing. “I tried to scream. I know I’m not supposed to outside my sessions yet, but I had to try something,” she looked at her pack imploringly. 

“You did the right thing,” said Peter, nodding and waving for her to continue. 

“I – I don’t know how I got here. All I remember was looking at Stiles on the ground and seeing his eyes glowing. He was looking right at me.”

“He sent you here,” Laura whispered, her eyes glassy. “I remember my boyfriend, Andrew, when he was training to become our emissary before – well, his eyes would sometimes glow when he was attempting a large spell. Were they green? Bright green?” she asked, her eyes becoming sharper with each word.

Lydia nodded with a sniffle. 

So many conflicting emotions clouded Derek’s mind that he had to sit down. He slumped against the marble wall and nearly fell to the ground. Cora went with him, maintaining a grip on his waist.

“Derek, we need to know what you want us to do,” said Peter.

Derek shook his head numbly. “I don’t know what to do. They have him.”

Laura crouched down so they were eye level. “That’s right,” she said fiercely. “They have him, and we need to get him back. Get up and give us some orders, Derek. You don’t think this is exactly what the Alpha Pack wants? They want us to fall apart. Why else would they take your m – our emissary,” she corrected quickly.

Derek, who had let go of his shift when he sat down, looked up at her sharply, letting his eyes bleed red at her words. 

He looked around at his pack, his eyes lingering on Lydia who had just fought off her attacker so bravely, and found the strength to stand up.

Derek took a deep breath before addressing them. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. Allison, you’ve already called your dad?” Allison nodded. “Good, tell him to meet us at the Stilinski’s. Peter, go to the Sheriff’s Station and pick up John. Don’t tell him everything, just get him home. Lydia, take Jackson and Boyd and go get cleaned up. Meet us at Stiles’ house in twenty minutes. The rest of you, come with me.”

They all nodded and took off towards their cars.

Within half an hour, they were all in the Stilinski house, congregated in the living room. Derek had called Scott, even though he wasn’t pack, and the beta had rushed over. It took ten minutes for Derek to calm him down enough to explain what had happened. The next ten minutes were spent trying to make sure he wasn’t about to bolt out of the house and search for Stiles himself.

Laura, Erica, and Isaac had tried following the scents, but they had gotten lost on the main road into downtown Beacon Hills.

Boyd took it upon himself to introduce Cora to the pack, while Derek, John, Peter, Chris, and Laura came up with a plan. Cora growled impressively when she learned that there were two Argents present, but agreed to hold off of the interrogations until after they’d found Stiles.

“We’re going to get him back, John,” Peter whispered to the man while Laura unrolled a map of Beacon Hills on the coffee table.

John just shook his head, his eyes full of unshed tears, and focused his attention on the map. They spent the next several minutes going through each possible place they could have taken him, until they’d narrowed it down half a dozen.

Derek sighed as he looked down at the map. They had about four hours of sunlight left to help them in their recon. “Ok, we’re going to split up into groups of two. Recon only,” he said sternly. “We don’t make any moves until we’re sure. Peter, John, you take the abandoned factory on the town border.” The two left abruptly, John not meeting Derek’s eyes.

“Boyd, you and Allison go to the warehouse on fifth. Lydia, Jackson, you guys take the high school. Chris and Scott, you’ve got the old apartment complex on Kline Street. Isaac, Erica, you take the mall – the abandoned one by the South border.” They all left without a word, taking their cell phones and nothing else.

“What about me?” Cora asked, her jaw set in determination.

It reminded him so much of their mother, Derek faltered mid-step. “We’re never letting you out of our sight again, you’re coming with us.” He said, gesturing to himself and Laura.

Cora rolled her eyes, but shot him a shy grin. “Who’s this Stiles kid anyway?”

Derek whined in response. “He’s – he’s important,” he gritted out.

Cora cocked her head to the side at the tone of Derek’s voice, but thankfully didn’t ask any follow up questions.

“Where are we going, Derek?” Laura asked, looking at the map curiously. “Wait, the only building left here is the gym on Bleaker; they wouldn’t be keeping him there.”

Derek looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world, but answered her question after a several deep breaths. “I – I think I can feel him.” He looked down at his stomach, which had started tingling about fifteen minutes prior. “It’s not giving me an exact location, but I think it can lead me to him.”

“What the hell?” Cora stepped forward, looking at Derek incredulously. “You’ve got a fucking mate bond with this guy? Like mom and dad?”

The three were all so shocked at the possible bond that they didn’t register the casual reference to their parents.

Laura rolled her eyes at Derek. “You’re insufferable. Why didn’t you just say something? We could all be following the bond together right now.”

Derek looked appropriately admonished, but raised his chin haughtily. “I don’t know what this bond is, or where it will lead. All I know right now is that I feel like it will bring me to Stiles. That’s not enough. We need to cover all our bases, Laura. And besides, if this is a mate bond, don’t you think Stiles deserves to know before I go blurting it to the rest of the pack?”

Cora scoffed and patted him on the head. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty, Der Bear.”

He grinned at the old nickname she used to call him before the fire and pulled her into a quick hug. “Ok, who’s ready to find Stiles?”


	29. You're Deucalion

When Stiles woke up in a poorly lit room tied to a chair, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. The whole thing was so ‘typical kidnapping,’ and honestly, he’d expected better.

After his eyes had adjusted to the dim light, he took stock of his surroundings. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture, and he counted three doors and no windows. 

“Hey, I know at least one of you can hear me,” Stiles called out, barely raising his voice above his normal volume. “Can we get on with the annoying interrogation part of this kidnapping, please?”

One of the doors creaked open, revealing a woman in her thirties with long, dark brown hair and dirty, clawed feet. Stiles let out a derisive snort and eyed the offending appendages pointedly. “Your claws aren’t stuck like that, are they? That would suck. I mean, when you’re just relaxing at home, sure. But, god, what if you just wanted to go out for a cup of coffee? Talk about a conversation starter, huh?” As he spoke, he surreptitiously checked on his pack bonds, and hid a sigh of relief when he felt that they were all intact and unharmed, including Lydia’s.

The woman sneered, flashing red eyes at Stiles as if to shut him up.

Stiles chuckled, pulling on his restraints experimentally. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work on me. Part of a wolf pack, remember?” His chuckle died in his throat as he realized he couldn’t access his spark. He could still feel it buzzing under his skin, but he couldn’t produce magic.

“Ah, yes,” came an accented voice from the hallway. There was a soft click, click, click that preceded each footstep, before a man came into view. He was middle aged, wearing sunglasses inside, and wielding a folding walking cane. 

Trying to tamp down his panic, Stiles focused on the man’s voice. “You’re probably wondering why you can’t simply magic yourself out of your restraints.” He paused to smile smugly. “Your pack is not the only one with a powerful emissary, Stiles.”

Stiles swallowed roughly, looking back and forth between the two Alphas. “Well, you seem to have me at a slight disadvantage. You know quite a bit about me, but I don’t even know your name.”

“Don’t you?” The man cocked his head to the side slightly, as if he was playing a game and not participating in a kidnapping.

Stiles sighed and thought back to the war room in his dad’s office. “You’re Deucalion,” he said confidently. 

“That’s right, Stiles,” Deucalion replied, pleased. “This, here, is Kali,” he said, gesturing to the woman circling Stiles like a hungry shark.

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but we all know that would be a lie,” Stiles replied, doing his best to keep his voice even. “Why am I here?”

“Tsk, tsk,” said Deucalion. “I think you’re smart enough to have figured that one out on your own.”

Stiles shook his head. “You want me to give you information on my pack. That’s never going to happen.” He looked at Deucalion fiercely, ignoring the derisive laugh from Kali.

“Not quite,” Deucalion purred. “We have all the information we need on your pack. This is simply a test.”

“A test?” Stiles replied indignantly. “You kidnapped me as some dumb test? What happened to your deadline, anyway? We were supposed to have two more weeks before you ‘tested’ us.”

“You really think we gained the reputation we have by giving people advanced notice of our intentions?” Kali spat venomously, coming to a stop behind Stiles.

“No honor amongst werewolves, I guess,” Stiles muttered. “But anyway, this isn’t really a good measure of how my pack works together, is it? I mean, you took the weakest link and asked the rest of them to find him. I’d be surprised if it took more than an hour before they’re knocking down your door.”

“The weakest link?” Deucalion repeated with a grin. “On the contrary, Stiles; you are one of the strongest links. A spark, an emissary, and the Alpha’s mate all in one.” He shook his head softly and pursed his lips. “Losing that much at once, it will be a wonder if your pack can control themselves enough to even come looking for you.”

Stiles’ head was spinning. “What was that you said? After emissary?”

Deucalion hummed. “Alpha’s mate.” His eyebrows rose on his forehead. “Did you not know?”

Stiles shook his head. “That’s not possible. I mean, Derek could hardly stand to be in the same room as me until like a month ago. Sorry, Duke, you’ve got the wrong hostage.”

Deucalion grimaced at the nickname, but looked at Stiles intriguingly. “You really think they won’t come for you? Assuming they’re able to function in your absence, that is.”

“Oh, please,” Stiles snorted. “They’re going to be able to function just fine. And they will come for me. Derek’s incapable of not helping when someone’s in trouble, even if it is just little old me.” Stiles looked down at the ground and laughed to himself.

“What?” Kali asked, annoyed.

Stiles looked up at met her eyes unflinchingly. “They’re going to kill you.”

Kali’s confident demeanor faltered at the fierce declaration, but she recovered quickly and resumed her pacing. 

“So, how are we gonna pass the time until my pack gets here and destroys you? Anyone know any good games?” Stiles was proud of the fact that his voice wasn’t shaking, given how much his mind was reeling from what Deucalion had said about him being Derek’s mate. 

Deucalion hummed again. “You are… not at all what I was expecting.” He gave a signal to Kali, who swept up behind Stiles suddenly and held his shoulders, restraining the boy completely. 

Stiles thrashed against the hold, but there was no use fighting against an Alpha without his magic. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Executing part two of the test, of course,” Deucalion responded. His fangs descended and Stiles could see the red of his eyes through his sunglasses. He approached the boy with his mouth open wide, ignoring Stiles’ screams of protest. 

The sound of a scuffle, even loud enough for Stiles’ ears, stopped Deucalion in his tracks. Stiles breathed a sigh of relief before Kali cracked him over the top of the head, causing him to lose consciousness immediately.

He came to back in his bedroom. The bright light coming in from the window forced his eyes shut. He reached out with his other senses and heard raised voices nearby. Stiles tried to open his eyes again, but was struck with a debilitating pain he couldn’t localize. Instead, he focused on the voices.

“… could have been killed!” Was that his dad? It sounded like his dad.

“You don’t think I know that?” That one was definitely Derek. Why did Derek sound so upset? Everything was fine; he was home safely and he didn’t feel like any of the pack bonds had been severed, so presumably everyone was alive.

Stiles bit back a groan of pain and refocused on the voices to take his mind off of it.

His dad again, sounding angrier by the word. “If Laura hadn’t called Peter, you would be dead right now! You ran into a warehouse full of Alphas, Derek. What the hell were you thinking?”

Stiles heard Derek run his hand through his hair. How could he hear that? He was shaken out of that train of thought by the sound of Derek’s voice.

“I know, John,” he said, more softly than Stiles was expecting. “I had no choice. You know I didn’t.”

Stiles frowned in confusion. What was he missing?

“I do know,” came his father’s voice again, still angry, but somewhat less so. “And believe me, we’re going to be talking about that very soon. But for now, we have to figure out how to help Stiles.”

Help Stiles? What was wrong with Stiles? Stiles frowned and forced his eyes open again, only to be assaulted by the sun once more. He kept his eyes open this time and looked around for his dad and Derek, but found that he was alone.

Huh. The voices sounded like they were only a few feet away. Shaking his head, Stiles tried to sit up, only to be stopped by a blinding pain in his side.

After a few deep breaths, he was able to focus enough to reach down and pull up the hem of his shirt, revealing his stomach.

Stiles’ eyes grew wide as he took in the sight of dried blood by his hip. Just above the blood was a large, semi-healed bite mark.


	30. A very aggressive wolf

It took some gentle nudging from Allison and some not-so-gentle reminders about his own temperament when he first turned from Derek to get Scott to leave the Stilinski house once Stiles had been rescued. 

Lydia had insisted that Scott and Allison go with her back to her house, and had corralled Boyd, Erica, and Isaac to join them. Surprisingly, Jackson was adamant that he stay at the Stilinski’s with Derek, John, Peter, Laura, Cora, and Chris.

John had yelled at Derek for several minutes after the wolf had deposited an unconscious Stiles onto his bed. Derek had taken the verbal lashing, knowing he’d deserved it.

Once the mate bond had drawn Derek, Laura, and Cora to where Stiles had been held, Derek hadn’t hesitated before running into the warehouse without a second thought. Luckily, Laura had called Peter on the sly a few minutes after they’d left the house, so Peter and John weren’t far away when Derek went rogue.

Peter and John had both heard enough on the phone to realize that Stiles and Derek were mates, and that Derek was going to be the one to find Stiles. John had called the others, who had all rushed to the right warehouse. 

Most of them had been too late to help.

Derek had easily dispatched one of the Alphas, still having had the advantage of the scent blocker Stiles had given him. Their research told them that there were five, so he assumed there were four left. His ears told him that two were fighting Laura, Cora, and Peter.

John had run into the warehouse mere minutes after Derek. The two of them together, running on the silent assumption that they were going to have heated words after Stiles was safe, worked to clear every room until they had come upon Stiles, tied to a chair and bleeding from his stomach.

Derek could smell that the two Alphas who had been in the room had fled. Together, he and John had untied Stiles and had stopped the bleeding, both resolutely ignoring the fact that it was a bite wound they were tending to as they got him situated at home.

Derek, refusing to let himself shut down at the prospect of how badly he’d failed Stiles until he knew Stiles was going to survive the bite, trudged down the stairs into the kitchen with his head hung.

After John finished yelling, he surprised Derek by sweeping him into a hug that both of them had needed desperately.

“He’s going to be ok,” John whispered, reassuring both Derek and himself.

They’d heard Stiles stir briefly during their spat, and Derek had rushed up to check on him, but the boy had passed out again.

Which brought them to right now, with Derek pacing a hole in the floor in the living room, Laura, Cora, and Jackson sitting on the couch, stealing anxious glances at John and Peter, who were standing just a bit too close to each other in the kitchen. Chris took over the armchair and was checking his phone every few minutes, clearly fielding questions from Allison and the others about Stiles’ condition.

“Wait, you’re the one who hates everyone, right?” Cora asked bluntly, staring at Jackson with a quirked eyebrow.

Jackson opened his mouth to dispute her assumption, but just ended up shrugging in defeat. 

“Then what are you doing here?” she continued, less accusatorily and more curiously. “Why stay and help Stiles?”

Jackson looked around, his eyes locking on Peter’s. “He knows,” Jackson grunts, nodding towards the kitchen.

Derek stopped pacing and looked at his uncle. “Peter?”

Peter took a step forward, letting the hand that had been on John’s back slide down and away gently. “He’s worried about the state of Stiles’ wolf when he wakes up. Isn’t that right, Jackson?”

Jackson nodded and slumped backwards into the couch cushions. 

“What do you mean the state of his wolf?” John asked hoarsely.

Chris sat up in the chair suddenly. “Oh, no, you might be right.”

Derek looked between Chris, Peter, and Jackson rapidly, irritation building in his gut with each passing second. “Someone explain what’s going on,” he commanded, with just a hint of Alpha in his voice.

“We’re talking about Stiles’ innate rage, Derek,” Peter told him calmly. “He’s going to make a very aggressive wolf.”

John frowned in confusion. “What do you mean, rage? Stiles is a lot of things, but overly aggressive isn’t one of them.”

“No, it’s true,” Chris countered softly. “Did I ever tell you about the time we had words at the hospital?”

Jackson nodded at Chris’ words. “When Stiles got in your face about the Hale house fire?”

Derek coughed. “I didn’t know he did that.”

“It was the first time I realized just how fiercely loyal Stiles could be,” Chris said. “Here I was threatening him, and he just got in my face and started taunting me about how messed up my family was.” Chris shook his head in wonder.

“He challenged me once,” Peter interjected once Chris was finished. “Of course, he didn’t realize it at the time, but he formally challenged me over Lydia’s life. If he’d been a wolf at the time, I could have killed him for it, but it certainly intrigued me; a fifteen year old kid yelling at me to kill him instead of Lydia.”

Derek and John both bristled at the anecdote, but were immediately distracted by Jackson offering his own story. 

“He hit me once, you know,” Jackson said, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “At the school, when we were running from Peter back before we knew it was Peter. He hit me. I mean, he was right, but still.”

Laura reached across the couch and squeezed Jackson’s arm once before pulling back and looking at Derek imploringly. “I think they might be right. We need to find Stiles an anchor before he wakes up. A new wolf with his history? It’ll be a disaster if we can’t help him control himself right away.”

“Hmm, where could we possibly find an anchor for Stiles’ wolf?” Peter asked sardonically, leaning against the counter next to John with a pointed look in Derek’s direction.

Derek flushed and looked away, resuming his pacing.

“What about John?” Cora asked. “I know I’ve only known you guys for a few hours, but they seem pretty close.”

Chris shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to introduce a human as an anchor before we know how stable Stiles is. He could easily hurt you, John.”

John looked like he was about to argue, but he just sighed. “I’d do it in a heartbeat, but he’d never forgive himself if he accidentally hurt me. I might actually end up doing more harm than good.”

“So we’re back to Derek,” said Peter smugly.

“Knock it off, Peter,” Derek snarled. “What about Scott?”

Peter shook his head, but lost his smirk. “Stiles already picked you over Scott, Derek. Multiple times. His wolf wouldn’t accept Scott as his anchor over you.”

“What are you talking about?” Derek asked. A hopeful look flickered over his face before he schooled it back to normal.

Cora looked back and forth between Peter and Derek as if she was secretly wishing she had some popcorn. Laura stifled a laugh as she correctly interpreted Cora’s delight and elbowed her lightly. They shared a private grin before turning their attention back to Peter and Derek.

“Even before he was pack, he chose you over Scott. You should have heard him defending you to Scott the night we told John about werewolves,” Peter told him, more gently than he had been speaking moments before. 

“No,” Derek whispered. “We don’t just get to choose his anchor without talking to him about it first.”

“Aren’t you guys mates or whatever?” Jackson asked brusquely. “Why wouldn’t it make sense for you to be his anchor?”

“I’m not going to force Stiles to make me his anchor,” Derek growled. “Just like I’m not going to force him to accept me as his mate.”

“I’m not sure how much forcing would be involved there, Der,” Laura chided. “You know as well as I do how much Stiles cares about you. And you’re his Alpha. He trusts you. What more do you think he would need in an anchor? Forgetting the whole mate thing right now, do you really think you wouldn’t help anchor him?”

“He deserves a better anchor,” Derek said quietly, looking down at his feet.

John stepped forward and placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder, prompting the wolf to look up in surprise. “Son, listen to me. I think we both know Stiles is too stubborn to reject the bite. Which means he’s going to be a fully fledged werewolf in just a couple of hours. Now, if you can help him control his wolf, you need to. You know that.”

Derek looked at John helplessly. “I’m sorry, John.” The words seemed inadequate even to his own ears, but the tension in Derek’s shoulders lessened when John simply nodded.

“I know you are. Now go upstairs and help my son.”


	31. Control

Stiles groaned as he awoke. Knowing the light would be too bright, he kept his eyes closed. He turned around, facing the room, and took a deep breath.

His eyes shot open when a mouthwatering scent hit his nose. 

“What the hell?” he asked no one in particular. His eyes rushed around the room, trying to locate the source of what smelled like dark chocolate, honeydew, safety, comfort, pack, and something else he couldn’t place that made his stomach feel like it was doing somersaults. 

Stiles’ eyes finally landed on Derek, sitting on his computer chair with his head in his hands.

“Derek?”

The sound of his name took Derek out of his trance, and his head shot up. He stood and rapidly made his way across the room to sit on the bed by Stiles’ hip. “Stiles? How are you feeling? Are you okay?” Derek’s hands hovered over Stiles’ body like he wanted to touch every inch of him to make sure nothing was wrong.

Stiles, who was overwhelmed by the scent when it was far away, was struck dumb when he realized it had gotten stronger as Derek had approached him. “What. Is. That?” he gritted out.

“Shit,” Derek said under his breath, grabbing Stiles’ hands, which had started to sprout claws.

Momentarily distracted by the sight of his own claws, Stiles’ eyes went wide. “What the fuck are those? Why do I have claws?” He tried to wrench his hands away from Derek, but Derek held on tightly. Stiles fought his way into a sitting position and looked at Derek helplessly.

“They turned you, Stiles,” Derek whispered despondently. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Stiles responded, shaking his head. “No, no, no. No, they didn’t. They –” He cut himself off and looked down at his hands again. His claws were still out, though Derek’s grip was keeping them from touching anything more than air. He flexed his hand, turning it slightly to view the claws from another angle.

Stiles suddenly became aware that the scent coming off of Derek had changed. “No,” he said again, for a completely different reason. “Change it back.” He launched forward, so he was almost completely seated on Derek’s lap. Stiles sniffed around Derek’s shoulders and collarbone, eventually coming to a stop at the man’s neck. 

“Stiles?” Derek said in a strangled voice. He let go of Stiles’ wrists and leaned back so he could see the boy’s face.

Stiles, who hadn’t fully realized what his body was doing, jumped off of Derek as if burned. He curled his legs underneath himself and held his hands out in supplication. “I’m sorry, Derek, I don’t know why I did that. It’s just – that scent. It was wonderful, and then it was… I don’t know, muted? It wasn’t right.”

“What scent?” Derek asked, his face warily hopeful.

Stiles frowned and met Derek’s eyes. “I think it was you.” He leaned forward and inhaled greedily, eyes slipping shut when hit with the same scent as before, unmuted. “Yeah, it’s definitely you. Have you always smelled this good?”

Derek ducked his head and blushed. He looked up and saw Stiles with his eyes still closed, swaying slightly as he tried to lean into Derek’s scent. 

Derek laughed. “Come here.” He opened his arms and gestured for Stiles to come closer.

Stiles wasted no time in wrapping his arms around Derek’s shoulders and burying his nose in the man’s neck.

“Is that better?” Derek asked through a grin. “Can you focus enough now to answer some questions?”

Stiles nodded, not moving from his place planted in Derek’s neck.

“How do you feel?”

After a few seconds, Stiles responded. “Wild. I feel like I can hear everything, and that’s overwhelming. I feel like if I stopped smelling this smell, my nose would be sad. I feel like if I wanted to, I could tear this bed apart with my bare hands, and that scares me. I’m a – I’m a werewolf.”

Derek considered Stiles’ answer before pulling back, hating the whine Stiles emitted at the movement. “I want you to try something for me. I want you to sit back.” He waited until Stiles had uncurled himself from around Derek’s shoulders and pushed back against the headboard to continue. “Now, retract your claws.”

Stiles frowned at his hands, as if attempting to scare his claws away. After a few unsuccessful minutes, Stiles growled in frustration.

Literally growled.

His eyes went wide at the sound. He looked up at Derek frantically, who was staring at him with a similar expression. 

“Stiles, your eyes,” Derek said quietly, as if in a daze.

Stiles slammed his eyes shut. “What about them?”

He opened them again when he felt Derek’s hand on his jaw. “They’re gold. They’re… they’re beautiful.”

Stiles smiled shyly, leaning into Derek’s touch.

They were both torn out of the moment by a clicking sound. Stiles raised his hands in triumph, showing Derek that they were claw-free.

Derek pulled his arm back, releasing Stiles’ jaw. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you. I need to see if you can do it on your own.”

Stiles frowned again. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you remember when Scott first turned? How out of control he got before he found an anchor?” 

Stiles nodded. “Vividly. Wait, so you’re saying I need to find an anchor?” His eyes widened in sudden understanding. “You’re saying my anchor is you?”

Derek ducked his head in shame. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not ideal. But we didn’t want to chance you hurting your dad, and Peter said Scott wouldn’t work…”

“Hey,” Stiles cut him off, ducking his head to find Derek’s eyes. “I could do a lot worse, you know,” he said with a wink.

They started at each other for a few seconds before Stiles changed the subject abruptly. “So,” he said, clapping his hands together. “First thing’s first – control. I’m feeling an almost irrepressible urge to find and hug my dad, but I want to make sure I won’t fracture his spine when I do. So, where do we start?”

Derek couldn’t hide his smile at his mate’s enthusiasm. He knew they would have to have a long talk later, and that Stiles was tamping down his real feelings about having been turned. But for now, Stiles was right; he had to learn control.

Over the next four hours, Derek gave Stiles a crash course on control. He answered some of Stiles’ many questions. 

“Are you my Alpha now, or is Deucalion?” (“Whoever you choose, Stiles.” “So, you, then.”)

And ignored many of his others.

“Does this mean I have a knot now?” (“Stiles, focus!”)

His pillows and bedding had all been ruined while learning to control his claws, but it was worth it. By the end of the first lesson, he could flash his eyes, and control his claws. The growling was an issue, as was his new strength, but Derek was confident enough in his control to bring him downstairs where some of the pack was waiting.

Stiles bounded down the stairs ahead of Derek, completely underestimating how much his new werewolf speed would clash with his innate clumsiness. He fell down the last four steps, but got back up in less than a second.

He looked around the room until he saw his dad. Without a second thought, he crossed the room with his arms open wide.

Only to have Peter step in front of him with a growl. 

Stiles growled back on instinct, barely repressing the urge to challenge the man.

“Peter,” came Derek’s voice roughly from the bottom of the stairs. “Peter,” he said again more softly. “He’s ok, let him pass.”

Peter looked at Stiles distrustfully. John placed his hand on Peter’s shoulder and gently pulled the man off to the side. Peter let himself be pulled, but kept a sharp eye on Stiles.

Once Peter was out of the way, Stiles launched himself into his dad’s arms, squeezing tightly. His mind was split in a thousand directions; don’t squeeze too hard, why does dad smell like Peter, dad should smell more like me, don’t squeeze too hard, where’s Derek, this is a great hug, don’t squeeze too hard.

When he finally pulled back, he was happy to find that his smell lingered, and his dad didn’t give him any indication that the hug had been too tight.

Stiles looked around proudly, eyes locking on Derek with a smug smile. 

Derek smiled in return and squeezed the back of the new wolf’s neck in congratulations.

Without warning, a scent hit Stiles’ nose that turned the happiness to ash in his mouth. Alphas. He looked around wildly for Deucalion, but only saw pack.

His eyes zeroed in on the girl sitting on the couch next to Laura. She smelled like Derek, but also like Alphas. In the back of his brain, he knew it must be Cora, but the scent of the man that bit him was all he could focus on.

Without another cognizant thought, he pounced.


	32. Yuck

Laura and Jackson sprung to their feet, each grabbing one of Stiles’ arms as he leapt towards Cora. Cora stood up and rounded the couch, putting it between herself and Stiles. Her eyes glowed, but she kept from shifting further than that, hoping to appear less aggressive so she wouldn’t upset Stiles more.

Stiles strained against Laura and Jackson’s hold, snarling in a way that scared him into stillness. His eyes were still locked on Cora, but he made no move to approach her. Laura and Jackson didn’t release him, for which he was grateful.

Breathing through his mouth, Stiles addressed Cora directly. “You’re Cora?”

She nodded. “That’s me. I’m guessing you can still smell them on me? Sorry about that, I took like four showers at Lydia’s while you were upstairs with my brother.”

At the mention of Derek, Stiles looked around wildly to find him. Derek approached him immediately and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ok?”

Stiles thought about it for a second and nodded at Laura and Jackson to let him go. He stepped backwards into the kitchen, trying to put a few more feet between himself and Cora.

He felt his dad put a hand on his other shoulder and closed his eyes to ground himself to the two people on either side of him.

When he opened them, he saw that Derek was frowning thoughtfully. “Stiles, what were you going to do to Cora just now?”

Jackson scoffed. “I think it was pretty clear he was gonna try and rip her throat out.”

Derek held out a hand to shush him, still looking at Stiles. 

Stiles just shook his head miserably. “I don’t know. I just wanted to know why she smelled like them, like Deucalion. My instinct was to pin her to the ground until she answered my questions.”

To his surprise, Derek smiled slightly and nodded. “Not to hurt her?”

Stiles looked shocked at the thought. “Why the hell would I hurt her? We just got her back.”

“How did you know that?” John asked, staring at Derek over his son’s head.

Instead of answering him directly, Derek addressed Stiles again. “Stiles, open the door.” He squeezed Stiles’ shoulder to keep him from moving when the boy began walking towards the front door. “From here, I mean. Open the door from here.”

Stiles flicked his wrist without thinking about it and used his spark to cause the door swing to open. When he realized what he had done, he let out an ecstatic howl. “My spark! I still have my spark.” He looked down at his hands in wonder, letting his claws come out and practicing small spells with his clawed hand, as if he needed to see the werewolf part of him and the spark part of him working together.

While Stiles opened, closed, and levitated things around the room, Derek answered John more thoroughly. “There was one point upstairs when he got frustrated and the lamp on his desk flickered. I figured that meant he still had his spark, but I didn’t want to push him too fast. If that was the case, and he really wanted to hurt Cora, he wouldn’t have needed to touch her to do it. He could have just willed it. So I figured he was probably just giving into his new instincts.”

“To pin first, ask questions later?” John finished wryly. 

“Actually, that’s a good point,” interjected Peter, tearing his eyes away from the light show Stiles was putting on for Laura, Jackson, and a hesitant looking Cora in the living room. “He’s going to need to learn how to deal with his new werewolf instincts as they relate to his human side and his spark side. That’s not going to be easy on him.”

John chuckled. “Yeah, but Stiles has never been one to shy away from the hard stuff.”

“Thanks, pops,” Stiles called from the living room. “I’m loving this hearing thing, by the way.”

Stiles sniffed the air cautiously and was at Derek’s side in an instant. “You’re doing it again,” he accused. “That think with your scent you did upstairs. What is that? It smells wrong.” Stiles whined, sniffing all around Derek’s neck and shoulders.

Laura sighed, resuming her seat on the couch. “It’s sadness, Stiles. When someone’s scent becomes less concentrated, more muted, it’s because they’re sad.”

Stiles frowned at Laura, then at Derek. “You’re sad?”

Derek nodded slowly. 

“Why?”

Derek looked around the room before answering, eyes lingering on John for a moment. “Because you never wanted to be a werewolf, and now you are one. You say you love the super hearing, and you’ve learned to control your eyes and claws, but there’s going to come a time where the fact that you never wanted this catches up to you, Stiles.”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked dryly, the way he did when he really didn’t want to be talking about something. “I’m an all-powerful spark werewolf hybrid. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“You,” John said quietly. “You didn’t want that. Do you want to talk about it?”

Stiles shook his head emphatically. “I think I should get a better grasp on my self-control before I have any intense heart-to-hearts. I’m a werewolf now, and I can pretend to accept that for a while.”

“That’s not really the healthiest way to approach this…” Peter said, eying Stiles speculatively. 

Stiles scoffed. “Are you really the right person to be talking to me about the healthiest way to be a werewolf?”

Peter smirked in agreement, even as John admonished Stiles.

“He’s right, though,” Jackson called from the living room. “Better to talk about it now than after you’ve had some freak out over your werewolf strength when you break Erica’s arm during sparring.”

Stiles paled. “Could I really do that?”

Laura nodded gently. “Yes, you could.”

“Shit,” Stiles cursed, reaching his hand out blindly. Derek held it without question, tightening his grip when Stiles let out a whine.

“Do you want to talk about it?” John asked again.

This time, Stiles nodded. “Yeah, but not with, like, everyone.”

“Then with who?” Derek asked, still holding Stiles’ hand.

Stiles looked down. “My dad, I think. I mean, you know more about this stuff,” he told Derek. “But with everything that’s going on with me and my instincts and lack of control and the way you smell, I think I’d just end up –”

“Ok,” John interrupted. “Got it. Why don’t we take a walk?”

Derek looked down to hide the blush in his cheeks, but the sweetness of his scent skyrocketed. Stiles exhaled loudly and dropped Derek’s hand, running around the kitchen to stand behind Peter.

“Sorry,” he told Peter in a strangled voice. “I need a new scent to temper Derek’s.” He took a big whiff and blanched. “Yuck. Perfect.”

Peter looked completely affronted. “Hey, I smell great.”

Derek growled under his breath. Had Stiles not been a werewolf, he might not have heard it. “Whoa, do you do that a lot? That sub-vocal growl thing?”

“Yup,” replied Jackson obnoxiously. “He does that pretty much every time someone touches you.”

Before Derek could react, Laura reached across the couch and smacked Jackson over the head. The two resorted to a slap fight that turned into a friendly brawl, taking Cora’s attention away from the scene in the kitchen.

“Aw, hell,” said John, rubbing his hands over his face. “Stiles, we’re going for a walk. We apparently have a lot to talk about.” He gave his son and Derek a pointed look and headed out back. 

Peter followed him without a second thought.

“Where are you going?” Derek demanded.

Peter scoffed and fixed Derek with an all-knowing smirk. “You think the two of them should be left alone to have this emotionally charged talk? While Stiles is in this state? Tsk tsk, nephew.”

“He’s right,” Stiles admitted with a groan. “Besides, you have some other puppies to attend to,” he told Derek, gesturing towards the living room.

Derek looked up at the ceiling, barely concealing his eye roll. “Not puppies,” he grumbled.

Peter left without another word. Stiles made to follow him, but was stopped by Derek’s hand on his wrist. 

“Just –” Derek stopped and swept his hand over Stiles’ head, running his wrist down the boy’s cheek and over the side of his neck.

Stiles’ head was swimming, but he was able to stay on his feet. Derek shot him a cocky grin and turned around to take care of his other betas.

“I hate you,” Stiles called after Derek’s retreating form.

“No, you don’t,” Derek whispered without turning around, knowing Stiles could hear him.

“No, I don’t,” Stiles admitted softly, turning to join his dad and Peter in the backyard.

He was so screwed.


	33. Morbidly optimistic

Peter stopped walking once he was sure they were out of hearing range from the house. Stiles took a seat on a fallen tree and looked down at his feet.

John crouched in front of him and put a hand on his knee. “Seriously, son, how are you doing?”

Stiles took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair before looking up. “Honestly, I have no idea. I never wanted to be a werewolf. I just… didn’t.”

“Why not?” asked Peter, stepping forward so he was only a few feet away from the other two.

Stiles gave him a half shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Lie,” Peter said, almost automatically. 

“Shit,” Stiles sighed. “I guess I have to learn how to control my heartbeat better. Let’s add that to the list,” he mumbled.

Peter waved his hand. “I can teach you that later. For now, we need to know why you didn’t want to be a werewolf.”

Stiles picked at his fingernail and looked vacantly at a leaf on the forest floor. “It’s not like I never thought about it. I mean, who wouldn’t want super strength and super hearing, even if it meant getting all wolfy once a month? I guess I just never wanted to be in a position where I could hurt someone without meaning to.” His voice was at a whisper by the time he finished, but he knew his dad and Peter had picked up every word. 

“Humans hurt people,” Peter contradicted quietly. “You don’t have to be a werewolf to hurt someone, Stiles. Just because you are one now, doesn’t mean you will, either.”

That startled a laugh out of Stiles. “That might be the most morbidly optimistic thing you’ve ever said to me.” He paused before begrudgingly adding, “thanks.”

John shook his head fondly and stood up with a groan. He stretched for a moment before taking a seat beside Stiles. “Is that the only reason you never wanted to turn? Because you were worried about hurting someone?”

“Yes and no,” said Stiles slowly. “I mean, I always knew I was going to be part of this world for the rest of my life, in some capacity. I guess I just figured if I stayed human, I wouldn’t have to worry so much about losing control. As a human, I know I had issues with anger and aggression, but I could usually control that. And in the times I couldn’t, it’s not like I had to worry about accidentally ripping someone’s throat out.”

John took one of Stiles’ trembling hands in his own. “This is something we can help you with.” He looked up at Peter imploringly. “Peter and Derek, and the rest of the pack. We’ll all help you. You won’t hurt anyone.”

Stiles shook his head. “You can’t promise that.”

“You’re right, he can’t,” said Peter bluntly. John opened his mouth to interrupt, but stayed quiet when Peter held up his hand. “He can’t promise that you’ll never hurt anyone, but we can all promise to do what we can to prevent it from happening.”

Stiles sighed, tilting his head to the side in concession. “Yeah, I guess that’s all I can ask.”

“Is there anything else that’s bothering you?” John asked, standing up and walking over so he was next to Peter.

Stiles’ eyes lit up with amusement. “Oh, yeah, actually.” He gestured between the two of them. “What the hell is going on here?”

Peter snorted and John just looked shell shocked.

Stiles put his hands behind his head and interlocked his fingers, leaning back to wait for an answer from either of them.

“I don’t know what you mean,” insisted John.

“Lie,” said Stiles right away. “Oh, hey! I could tell you were lying.” He looked at Peter proudly before looking back at his father expectantly. 

“There’s nothing going on between me and Peter,” John said definitively. 

Peter pouted. “Well, that’s a little hurtful, darling.”

“Now is not the time,” said John, though the tips of his ears turned pink at the endearment.

Stiles took a big whiff in their direction. “I mean, you guys smell like each other. Like you spend a lot of time together. You don’t smell like… that. Thank god,” he added under his breath.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Peter, affronted.

Stiles’ arms flailed around him. “Parents aren’t supposed to have sex! That’s the rule. As far as I’m concerned, my dad has had sex exactly once, and that’s how I was born.”

“Wait,” interjected John, confused. “That’s your problem with this? That I’m not supposed to have sex? Not that it’s Peter, or that he’s a man? Not that I’m thinking about having sex with Peter! Or thinking about Peter like that at all.” He threw his head back with a groan. “Why are we even talking about this right now?”

Stiles clicked his tongue. “I dunno, pops, but methinks thou dost protest too much, you know what I mean?”

Peter snorted in amusement. “Perhaps we should move onto another topic I know your father actually wants to talk about.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, but waved at him to continue. 

“You and Derek,” Peter said bluntly.

“What about me and Derek?” Stiles asked, in a nonchalant way that fooled exactly no one.

John rubbed his hand over his face and sighed wearily. “Kid, you need to be careful.”

“What, like wear condoms?”

“Jesus,” John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose while Peter snickered. “No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I mean, he’s older than you, and you’re still in high school. I know you’re almost seventeen and you’ve been through things no teenager should ever have to go through, but that doesn’t change your age.”

“Dad, we aren’t doing anything that would require me to be older than I am right now.” Ignoring Peter’s mumbled, “not yet,” Stiles continued. “I don’t even know if he’s interested in me like that.”

John shook his head in amazement. “Stiles, that man is crazy about you, everybody can see that. Hell, Cora figured it out within a half an hour.”

Stiles’ eyes felt like they were about to bulge out of his head. He sat up on the log, bouncing with excitement. “Yeah?”

His dad and Peter nodded in tandem. 

John pointed a stern hand at his son. “You two need to have a serious discussion before anything happens between the two of you. There are some things you need to know that he should be the one to tell you.”

Stiles nodded, still vibrating out of his skin with happiness.

“Oh, and one more thing,” his dad said, donning his Sheriff face and posture. “I don’t ever want to see you two doing anything that would require me to arrest him, you hear me?”

“Got it, we’ll be sneaky.”

“Try again.”

“Got it, we’ll wait until I’m eighteen.”

“That’s better.”

With that, John turned and started walking back towards the house. Stiles got up to follow him, but Peter held him at bay with an outstretched hand. “Go on, John, we’ll be right behind you.”

Stiles cocked his head in confusion, but waited with Peter until his dad was out of earshot.

“Stiles, as you have correctly surmised, I am quite fond of your father,” Peter began.

“Oh, no, is this where you ask my permission to date my dad?” Stiles asked, slapping a hand over his eyes.

Peter sighed loudly. “Not exactly permission, but I would like to know how you would feel about the possibility.”

“Peter, if you wish to court my father, I expect to be paid a dowry,” Stiles said obnoxiously. “He’s worth at least three pigs, wouldn’t you say?”

Peter rolled his eyes with a huff and turned his back on Stiles, walking towards the house in John’s wake.

Stiles bounced on his heels and made to follow him. “Ok, two pigs.”

Without breaking stride, Peter shook his head.

Stiles circled him, beaming. “Two pigs, Peter, but they’d better be big!”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

The two bickered until they were back in earshot of the house. Stiles caught a whiff of Derek’s scent and took off towards the back door, grinning from ear to ear.


	34. A nice talk

Stiles burst through the back door, barely registering the presence of his father, Cora, Laura, or Jackson. He made a beeline for Derek and jumped into his arms, wrapping his legs around the man’s waist.

He was momentarily distracted by the intoxicating smell coming off Derek in waves, but he shook his head and breathed in through his mouth to clear his mind.

Derek, who had caught Stiles without a second thought and was now holding him up securely, looked shocked at the sudden display. His confusion turned to fondness when Stiles spoke.

“You like me,” he accused the Alpha through a blinding grin.

Derek couldn’t help but smile in return. He laughed at the absurdity of their positions, which caused Stiles to begin laughing uncontrollably.

This continued for a few minutes, until John cleared his throat pointedly. Stiles tucked his head into Derek’s neck for one last greedy sniff, then let himself fall back to the ground. He looked around to the kitchen guiltily and met his dad’s eyes, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

Stiles felt Derek step forward and place a hand on the small of his back. It grounded Stiles enough to speak. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I do need to talk to Derek though, without prying werewolf ears.”

John nodded reluctantly, but made no move to leave. Stiles looked around at the rest of his packmates imploringly. Jackson and Cora were wearing identical looks of faux disgust, while Laura’s eyes shone with unshed tears – it had been years since she’d seen Derek laugh like that. She ushered the other two out the door with promises of updating the rest of the pack on Stiles’ progress.

“Oh, come on,” Peter said to John, pulling him towards the door with a gentle hand on his elbow. “I’m taking you to dinner.”

John’s eyebrows shot up, but he was sufficiently distracted. “Dinner?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yes, dinner. In a restaurant that doesn’t have flimsy plastic menus or make you sit on a vinyl booth.”

John let out a long, put upon sigh, but the corners of his mouth ticked up as he grabbed his jacket.

When the two of them were gone, Derek turned a confused eyebrow on Stiles. “Did you know that was a thing?” he asked, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the front door.

Stiles closed his eyes and shook his head. “It’s all very new and very disturbing, I’m trying not to think about it.” He opened his eyes in time to see a brief frown cross Derek’s face. “What?”

“Nothing,” Derek pouted. “It’s just, now I owe Erica and Lydia twenty bucks.”

Stiles opened his mouth, then closed it again. “You know what? I’m not even gonna ask.”

Without thinking about it, Stiles reached over and took Derek’s hand, intertwining their fingers. The smile Derek gave him in return was blinding.

Stiles swayed a little on his feet from the force of it, and decided this conversation would be best had while sitting down. He led Derek over to the couch, where the two sat angled towards each other.

Stiles let go of Derek’s hand and started playing with his fingers idly. He was shaking with excitement, and couldn’t stop fidgeting. Derek just smiled and placed his hand on Stiles’ thigh palm up so he could do what he needed.

“So,” Derek began. “I guess you had a nice talk with your dad and Peter out back?”

Stiles nodded. “I learned quite a bit more about his relationship with Peter than I’d ever wanted to know in my lifetime, but yeah. We also talked about…” his voice faltered and he gripped Derek’s hand. “You’re going to help me, right? Help make sure I have enough control to not hurt people?” His eyes bore into Derek’s intensely. He could feel the thrum behind his eyes that told him they were glowing gold.

Derek’s flashed red in response, eliciting a whine from Stiles. “Yes,” he told the boy fiercely. “Of course I’ll help you. We all will.”

Stiles took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he nodded to himself. “Ok.” He nodded again. “Ok.”

“Did you guys happen to talk about anything else?” Derek asked shyly after a few moments.

“Yes, actually,” said Stiles in a failed attempt at nonchalance. “Dad said there was something you needed to tell me. Something it seemed like he knew, but he said it should come from you.” Stiles grinned evilly. “Do you have any idea what that might be?”

Derek shook his head in exasperation, but shifted so he was angled even more towards Stiles. After a deep breath and a few stops and starts, he blurted out, “I think you’re my mate.”

Stiles’ eyes widened. He leaned forward to get a better read on Derek’s heartbeat. “Say that again,” he whispered.

“You’re my mate, Stiles,” Derek repeated more confidently. 

The look on Derek’s face was so open and tender, Stiles couldn’t help but reach up and place a hand on his cheek. He rubbed his thumb over Derek’s cheekbone while he tried to gather his thoughts. Stiles had read up on werewolves and mates when Scott had first turned, but he’d shrugged it off as unimportant at the time; he had been more focused on the parts of his research that would make sure Scott didn’t kill someone on the full moon.

But he knew what it meant. Werewolves mated for life. Once they found their mate, that was it. 

“Are you sure?” he whispered, not dropping his hand.

Derek nodded. “I’m sure. I’ve thought it for a while, but once you turned, I felt it.”

Stiles smiled involuntarily at the words, but frowned a bit in confusion. “You felt it?”

“Close your eyes,” Derek instructed.

Without hesitation, Stiles did. 

“Feel for our pack bond. You feel it?” When Stiles nodded, Derek continued. “Does it feel different?”

Stiles’ eyes flew open. “It’s buzzing. It feels…” he struggled to find the word. “Happy?”

Derek chuckled. “It does. It feels happy.”

The smile on Stiles’ face slid into a frown. He bit his lip and let his hand fall away from Derek’s face. “You deserve better than me, Derek. You don’t want to be mated to me.”

Derek started to speak, but Stiles cut him off. “I’m a mess! I’m a newly turned werewolf, I have no idea how that’s going to affect my magic or my ADD, I always say the wrong things at the wrong times, I got myself kidnapped by the Alpha Pa –”

Stiles’ rant was interrupted by Derek surging forward and capturing his lips in a kiss so tender, it took Stiles’ breath away. Before he could do more than close his eyes, it was over.

Derek ran his thumb over Stiles’ lower lip, prompting him to reopen his eyes. “Even if all of those things are true,” Derek said at a whisper given their close proximity. “You forgot the part where you’re also out of this world brave, fiercely loyal, and absolutely beautiful. You’re more powerful than you know, and not just because you’re a spark and a werewolf. You’re incredible, Stiles. I would be honored to call you my mate.”

Stiles’ eyes, which had gone glassy as Derek spoke, refocused. “And I would be honored to call you mine.”

Derek beamed, but sobered quickly. “We don’t have to decide anything now. You’re still in high school, Stiles, you shouldn’t have to make decisions like this so young.”

“Ugh,” Stiles groaned. “Why does everyone keep talking about my age? I’m not too young to be a spark. I’m not too young to be a werewolf. I’m not too young to have been kidnapped – more than once! Why am I suddenly too young to know what I want and who I want it with?”

Derek pulled Stiles to his chest, rumbling deeply. The sound and vibrations shocked Stiles into silence. He went limp in Derek’s arms and allowed himself to just be held for several minutes.

“You know, sixteen is the legal age of consent in more than half the states in the country. Stupid California,” Stiles grumbled. 

Derek chuckled once, but didn’t speak.

“I turn seventeen in three weeks,” Stiles tried again.

“Then we only have to wait fifty-five more weeks.” Derek laughed when Stiles tried to pull away indignantly. He tightened his grip on the beta and nuzzled into his neck. Stiles sighed happily after giving up the fight and leaned contentedly into Derek’s chest. 

He pulled back slightly a few minutes later and pressed a soft kiss to Derek’s lips. “It’s ok,” he said. “You’re worth the wait.”


	35. We need allies

The next few days passed in a blur, but not without incident. Deaton returned from Nevada with the book he obtained for Lydia, and wasted no time in scheduling back-to-back training sessions with Stiles to get a handle on how to use his spark now that he was a werewolf.

To Stiles’ delight, Deaton discovered that the biggest change was that Stiles could draw markedly more power from within himself now that he had turned. As a result, Stiles could attempt more elaborate spells, and the recovery time after each spell had decreased significantly. 

Stiles’ control was getting better every day. He got to the point where he could train with the rest of the pack without fear of hurting everyone, but he still didn’t trust himself to try and one-on-one sparring.

Peter and John were officially dating, as were Derek and Stiles. The four of them had an incredibly awkward conversation, during which it was decided that neither relationship would ever be discussed.

Laura and Peter took over the rebuilding of the Hale house. Stiles didn’t want to know what exactly Peter did to accomplish the feat, but construction was moving along faster than anyone had expected. 

Derek called a pack meeting five days after Stiles had turned, to discuss the ongoing threat against them. The Alpha Pack had seemingly gone into hiding, and the pack grew more on edge with each passing day that came and went without a sign of them.

“We need allies,” Derek declared once the pack had settled in. “There are four packs whose territories border our own; the Hudson pack, the Fowler pack, the Abrams pack, and the Kolb pack. We had alliances with them when I was growing up, but they haven’t been maintained.” Derek looked down in shame as he finished, but thankfully the attention was taken off of him when Peter spoke.

“I have maintained a relationship with the Fowler pack.”

Derek looked up, surprised. “You have? Since when?”

Peter pursed his lips. “After I… came back –”

“You’re welcome,” Lydia interjected bitterly.

Peter inclined his head at her. “Yes, well, after that, I got the impression that I would not be welcome in the pack here. So I reached out to an old friend in the Fowler pack to see if joining them would be a viable option for me. Obviously, I didn’t pursue it further, but I still have contacts in their pack.”

Derek looked like he wanted to ask Peter more on the subject, but he moved on. “Great, then I would like you and Boyd to be in charge of reaching out to their pack, and the Hudson’s. Their territories also share a border, and I know they are historically close. We may be able to get both on board.” 

Boyd and Peter nodded at each other and their Alpha.

Before Derek could continue, Cora spoke up from the couch, where she was situated between Laura and Allison. She and Allison had formed a friendship that no one had seen coming, after they had cleared the air that had been fogged by Allison’s last name. “I have a few connections in the Kolb pack.”

Laura whipped her head around to her sister. “How is that possible? You never came with us when we visited them and you’ve been living in Brazil since you were eleven.”

Cora shrugged. “When I escaped the fire, I ran. I must have been running south, because eventually I ran onto their territory. Their emissary was the one who found me and helped me hide who I was, and their Alpha found me the pack I stayed with in South America.”

“They knew you were alive?” Derek asked in disbelief. “This whole time, they knew and they never said anything?”

“I don’t think they knew you and Laura were alive,” countered Cora. “I stayed with them for about a week, to see if anyone else made it out. They told me about Peter, but nothing about you two.”

Laura nodded thoughtfully. “She’s right, Derek. We left two days after the fire, once we knew Peter wasn’t going to wake up. We didn’t tell anyone where we were going.”

Derek began pacing around the room, visibly upset. “But, Laura, when I came back after you died, I mean, your death was widely publicized. Why didn’t they reach out to me when all those articles said I was back in Beacon Hills?”

Stiles let out a soft breath of understanding and stepped in front of Derek to stop his pacing. “Because some of those articles also said you were the prime suspect in her murder.”

Derek let out a low whine and closed his eyes.

“That was my fault, Derek, I’m so sorry,” said Stiles quietly, going against all instincts and keeping his hands to his sides.

After a few tense seconds, Derek opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He sent Stiles a reassuring smile and addressed Cora. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. I’d like you to go with Laura to talk to the Kolb and Abrams packs, if that’s ok.”

Cora nodded enthusiastically. “Of course.”

They spent the next hour or so discussing how best to approach each pack, and what to say once they did. 

After they had their marching orders, Boyd, Peter, Laura, and Cora left to make first contact with the surrounding packs. 

“Alright,” declared Erica, standing up from the armchair she had previously shared with Boyd. “I’m in the mood to shoot stuff. Allison, you want to go try out that new bow Derek bought you three days ago, but hasn’t had the courage to tell you about?”

“Erica!” Derek chided half-heartedly. It came out more like a whine, which took away any heat he tried to put behind the word.

Allison perked up. “You bought me a new bow?” She walked over towards Derek, excited.

Derek nodded, trying and failing to hide his blush. “It’s upstairs in Stiles’ closet,” he mumbled.

Stiles tried to hide a snort at the shocked look on Derek’s face when Allison threw her arms around him. 

She turned and raced up the stairs, Erica hot on her heels. The two returned a minute later with the new bow in hand. Allison stopped to give her Alpha one last hug before racing out the door with Erica towards the archery range.

“What a good Alpha, providing for your pack,” Stiles crooned, wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist and nuzzling his nose into his neck.

“That’s my cue,” John said with a groan, rising from the other armchair across the room. “I’ve got a shift starting in about half an hour, but it never hurts to be early.”

Chris excused himself as well to go oversee Allison and Erica’s archery session, leaving Stiles and Derek alone with Jackson, Isaac, and Lydia.

“You wanna go see a movie?” Jackson asked Lydia. Lydia nodded and made to follow him. Jackson stopped at the door and turned towards Isaac. “You coming?”

Isaac looked surprised at the invite, but smiled and joined the two as they walked towards Jackson’s car.

Derek opened his mouth to say something, but Stiles held his hand up to stop him. Stiles tilted his head, clearly listening intently.

Before Derek could ask what he was listening for, he heard a growl from the driveway. 

“Stilinski!” Jackson shouted, running back through the front door. Stiles sprinted around the living room, dodging Jackson as he ran after him.

Finally, Stiles succumbed to his laughter and Jackson tackled him to the ground. 

“What’s going on?” Derek asked Lydia when she and Isaac had joined them in the living room. 

Lydia shook her head in exasperation. “Stiles spelled Jackson’s car so the doors won’t open until Jackson gives it a password.”

Derek and Isaac had to laugh at that. “What’s the password?” Derek asked Stiles curiously.

Stiles, still pinned under Jackson, just shook his head with a smug grin. “I’m not telling. Though, Jacks, the car will give you a hint if you ask it.”

Growling, Jackson stood up and rushed back outside. “Stilinski, I am NOT going to just sit here and say nice things about you until the door opens,” Jackson yelled after asking the car what it wanted.

Stiles rolled around on the floor and laughed until there were tears running down his face.

The laughing only increased when Stiles heard Jackson trying out possible passwords.

It took Jackson about five minutes to finally find the right password (“Stilinski is better than me at lacrosse”). Once Stiles and Derek were alone, they sat down on the couch.

Derek threw his arm around Stiles, pulling him close. 

“Do you think it’s gonna work?” Stiles asked him. “Forming alliances with all those packs, I mean. If a few packs banding together to fight the Alphas was the solution, don’t you think another pack would have thought of that by now?”

Derek hummed as he considered the question. “I think it’s our best option,” he answered truthfully. “I also think the Alphas deliberately chose packs who they believed weren’t strong enough to have alliances with other packs who could help them. That’s why they chose us.”

“But we aren’t weak,” Stiles argued fiercely.

“No,” Derek agreed with a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head. “We aren’t weak anymore.”


	36. Building alliances

HUDSON/FOWLER PACKS:

Peter and Boyd pulled up to a large, secluded brick house on the outskirts of the Fowler pack territory. After Peter had reached out to his friend to let him know of their intentions, the Fowler and Hudson packs had decided it would be easier to meet together. Boyd’s heart rate increased as they approached the driveway at the thought of how outnumbered they were about to be.

“Relax,” Peter instructed with an eye roll. “We aren’t walking into enemy territory or anything; these are all people who knew and respected my sister when she was the Alpha. We’ve got friends in there.”

Boyd nodded and steadied himself, oddly comforted by Peter’s words.

They parked the car and walked up to the front door confidently, knowing it would be taken as a sign of weakness for them to appear anything but.

The door opened before they could knock, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man in his forties. He had dark hair and some salt and pepper in his untrimmed beard. “Peter,” he said jovially, opening his arms in invitation. 

Peter smiled and stepped forward to embrace his old friend. “Frederick. It’s good to see you.”

Frederick pulled back and gave Boyd a onceover. “And who is this strapping young man?”

Boyd smiled openly and stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Boyd, sir. I’m second to Alpha Derek Hale.”

Frederick beamed at that and pushed Boyd’s hand away, pulling Boyd into a hug as well. “Handshakes are for acquaintances, my boy, and I intend for us to be friends.”

Boyd looked a little shell shocked, but he returned the hug with a few pats on the back before stepping away.

“Now, why don’t I introduce you to the rest of the pack?” Frederick suggested with a happy twinkle in his eye.

Peter, looking perfectly at ease, followed him inside, sparing a smirk towards Boyd when the boy hesitated briefly.

Frederick introduced them to ten other members of the Fowler pack, before leading them into a study in the east wing. Sitting behind a desk imperially was a woman Frederick’s age, eying the two visitors discerningly. 

“Nina,” Peter said with a reserved smile, as if unsure how his presence would be received. 

“Boyd, it is my honor to present my wife, Nina Fowler, Alpha of the Fowler pack,” Frederick said with a flourish, encouraging Boyd to step forward into the room.

Boyd inclined his head respectfully. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. My name is Vernon Boyd. I am second to Alpha Derek Hale of the Hale pack. This,” he gestured to Peter, “as you know, is Peter Hale.”

Nina was quiet for a few seconds after Boyd finished his introduction. “Very pleased to meet you, Vernon. And yes, I am familiar with Peter, thank you.” She turned her icy stare towards Peter. “You’re lucky my brother has a soft spot for you. I must say, I was happy to hear that you patched things up with Derek, if only because that meant you would not be joining my pack after all.”

As if on cue, another werewolf burst through the doors. He looked around and started in on Peter once the man was in his sights. “Peter,” he boomed, clapping Peter on the shoulder hard enough to make the wolf stagger.

Peter couldn’t help but smirk. “Simon,” he greeted.

“Simon,” the name rang out again, this time with a bite behind it. Frederick stepped forward with a tight frown. “This is a closed meeting.”

Simon appeared unaffected by the hostile admonishment. “Geez,” he said, leaning towards Boyd as if the two were sharing a secret. “You challenge your sister for her Alpha power once and suddenly you’re not allowed in the inner circle.” He winked and leaned back, out of Boyd’s space.

Boyd was thankfully saved from responding by Nina standing up from her chair. “Simon, leave us.” She flashed her eyes and put a little Alpha power in her voice, causing Simon to pout and leave the way he came.

“Apologies for my brother,” Nina said to Boyd. “There’s a reason he and Peter get along so well.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at Boyd sardonically. “What? You didn’t think ours was the only pack with a Peter in it, did you?”

A few seconds later, another man entered the room, followed by two women. The man was clearly the Alpha of the Hudson pack. He sat down next to Nina, while the two women sat on either side of Frederick.

Boyd introduced himself and Peter again, before they sat on the other side of the desk.

The smaller of the two women, who looked to be no older than her mid-twenties, spoke up for the others. “This is Terrance Hudson, Alpha of the Hudson pack, and this is his second, Amelia Hudson. My name is Trisha.”

Boyd sent a smile at the three, hoping to appear friendly and open. He received one in return from Terrance and Trisha, but could not read Amelia at all.

After exchanging a few niceties, the seven of them got down to business hashing out details of the old treaties between their packs to see what would be renewed and what would be changed. 

Three hours later, Boyd excused himself to call Derek to update him on their progress.

They had allies. 

ABRAMS/ KOLB PACKS:

Laura and Cora had decided to visit the Abrams pack first; their Alpha and second had been good friends with their parents, and they didn’t think there would be that much of a fight to convince them to help.

A stout woman in her fifties, Alpha Rebecca Abrams opened the door with a huge grin and wasted no time in sweeping the two girls into a motherly hug. She stepped back, placing a hand on their shoulders and tutted. “So skinny.” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “Come! Into the kitchen with you two.”

The two exchanged bewildered looks, but let themselves be dragged into the Abrams pack house, through the living room into the kitchen. Rebecca introduced herself and her husband, a man in his sixties with gray hair and kind eyes, while she fixed Cora and Laura something to eat.

The visit was nothing like what they had expected; the four of them hashed out treaty details over baked ham and green bean casserole.

They were joined about an hour into their talks by a young woman only slightly older than Laura.

“Oh, dear, yes,” exclaimed Rebecca happily. “My apologies, this is my daughter, Christina. She’s next in line to be Alpha, so I hope you won’t mind if she joins us?”

Laura shook her head and introduced herself and Cora to Christina while Rebecca fixed her daughter a heaping plate.

“Sorry about all this,” Christina stage whispered to Laura and Cora. “They can be a bit much sometimes.”

Laura laughed. “No, this is great. It’s –” There was a sudden lump in her throat that didn’t allow her to continue. It had been years since she’d come across two people who had reminded her so much of her mom and dad.

Sensing Laura’s distress, Cora grabbed her hand under the table. “It’s great,” she assured Christina with a smile. “Thank you.”

Rebecca wiped her eyes with a loud huff. “Oh, dear,” she whispered to herself.

They shook themselves out of their melancholy states and finished drawing up the treaty half an hour later.

Laura and Cora left with a chorus of goodbyes, laden with multiple Tupperware containers full of leftovers.

They got in the car and let out identical deep sighs. For as nice as Rebecca had been, that was a lot of mothering for two people not used to the sensation.

They arrived at the Kolb pack house just past midday. Cora was greeted with hugs and cheek pinches, which annoyed her, but pleased Laura to no end.

The pack dispersed when their Alpha appeared in the doorway. 

“Alpha Kolb,” Laura greeted him with a slight head bow. “It’s nice to see you again after all these years. And I’m told you’re familiar with my sister, Cora?” She tried to keep the ice out of her voice, but was unsuccessful.

“Please, call me Julius,” he instructed with a grim smile. “And yes, I know Cora.” He placed a hand on Cora’s shoulder. “I’m very glad to see you again.”

Cora nodded her head and gripped his shoulder in return. “Julius, thank you again for what you and your emissary did for me six years ago. I hope you know how much that meant to me.”

Julius spared her a grin before introducing his second and best friend, Marcus Henderson, and leading them into his office to talk more privately. 

“Before we begin,” Julius said as they got situated around the desk, “I’d like to apologize to you, Laura, for not letting you know Cora was alive. I did not realize you and Derek had survived the fire, and once I’d learned of your fates, I was not sure Cora would be safe with Derek given what we had read.”

Laura pursed her lips and took a deep breath. She took one look at Cora and her face softened. “I understand, as does Derek. We appreciate that there was someone looking out for Cora, even if it wasn’t us.”

There was a timid knock on the door before a young girl, no older than thirteen, entered the office.

“Ah,” Julius said, beaming. “This is my daughter, Emily. I hope you won’t mind if she sits in? She has been shadowing our emissary lately and has taken to calling herself the pack scribe; she writes everything down.” The look on his face as he talked about his daughter was nothing short of fond.

Emily laid out her papers and utensils neatly next to Laura. Laura sneaked a peek at the paper and smiled. “She has excellent penmanship, so of course she can stay.” She winked at Emily and smiled when her compliment caused the girl to sit up proudly in her chair.

Since their alliance treaty had been updated only months before the fire, the discussion between the packs took less than an hour. Laura and Cora left with promises to call with updates, and sat in the car for a few minutes before speaking.

“That went… well?” Cora said uncertainly, as if she’d somehow read the situation wrong.

Laura just nodded. “Surprisingly well.” She looked over and Cora and ran a hand over the top of her head. “Mom would be proud.”


	37. Kind of exceptional

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised, Derek,” Stiles sighed, leaning into Derek’s chest on the couch and fiddling with the hem of the man’s shirt.

Derek groaned and let his head roll back one to the couch cushion. “It’s not that I’m surprised, exactly. I just feel like it was too easy. Why would they all be on board with helping us? They renewed our treaties in less than a day, that can’t be normal.”

“We’re not normal,” Stiles reminded him. “Think about it – if a pack like ours approached you and wanted to be allies, wouldn’t you do it?”

Derek pursed his lips. “What do you mean?”

Stiles sat up and turned his body so he was facing Derek. “We’re an unusual pack, Derek. We’ve got werewolves, humans, hunters, a spark, and a banshee. We tamed a feral Alpha, took down Gerard Argent, and turned a kanima back into a real boy. We’re kind of exceptional.”

With a content sigh, Derek pulled Stiles back to him. Stiles went along happily and they settled back into the cushions.

They sat in silence for a while, satisfied to just hold each other while their minds wandered.

After a few minutes, Stiles spoke again. “What do you think they’re waiting for?”

“The Alpha pack?” Derek clarified. “I’m not sure. I don’t think they expected us to take one of them out when we rescued you; they didn’t realize we were that strong, I guess.”

“So you think they’re regrouping?” Stiles hummed in thought. “What are the odds they just leave? I mean, they know now how strong we are, don’t they?”

Derek shook his head. “They can’t leave now. We’ve killed one of their pack; they have to retaliate or else they’ll look weak.”

Stiles growled under his breath. “Yeah, but they were killed while you guys were rescuing me after they’d kidnapped me. It’s not like it was an unprovoked attack.”

“I know,” Derek reassured him with a kiss to the top of his head. “And most packs would see it that way, but not them.” He was silent for a while before adding quietly, “I wish I could talk to my mom. She’d know what to do.”

Stiles wrapped his arm around Derek’s waist and leaned further into his chest. “What do you think she’d say?”

Derek thought about it for a minute before responding. “I think she’d say that their actions have proven that they aren’t amenable to resolving this peacefully. And that even though I don’t want to, fighting the Alpha pack may be unavoidable.” He nodded to himself slowly, words gaining more confidence as he went on. “She’d say that I need to do whatever it takes to protect my pack.”

Stiles beamed and angled Derek’s head down so he could give the man a kiss. “Smart woman,” he said as he pulled back.

They held a pack meeting that afternoon where it was decided that they would redouble their training efforts to get ready for the inevitable battle. Derek, Laura, and Jackson were in charge of training, so the three of them disappeared into the office to update their regimen.

Lydia, who had been oddly quiet about her training sessions with Deaton over the past week, pulled Stiles aside as the rest of the pack talked amongst themselves. 

“I have an idea,” she said so quietly, Stiles had to use his wolf hearing to hear her. “Deaton’s going to talk to you about it during your session tomorrow, but I wanted to give you a head’s up.”

Stiles listened while Lydia spoke, his eyes growing wider with each word. When she finished, Stiles shook his head in amazement. “Lydia, I always knew you were a genius, but you’ve really outdone yourself.”

Lydia looked pleased and gave Stiles a genuine smile. “So you want to try it?”

“Definitely,” Stiles said emphatically. “I’ll talk to Deaton about it tomorrow.”

She turned around with a final nod to seek out Chris. Since she and Boyd were the best at archery, Chris and Allison had decided that they would begin specialized archery training right away.

The four of them went to the Argent’s, leaving Stiles, Erica, John, Peter, Isaac, and Cora in the living room. 

“That’s not a bad idea,” Peter said thoughtfully, nodding at the front door their pack members had just closed.

John frowned. “What’s not?”

“Them specializing in archery since they’re the best at it. It might be a good idea to do that with your speciality, too, John.” Peter considered him for a moment. “Who’s the best during your lessons?”

“Isaac and Erica,” John replied immediately. 

The two wolves sat up proudly and high fived over a pouting Cora.

“What do you say, kids? You want to be on my team?” John asked the two with a grin.

They nodded enthusiastically. “Hell, yeah,” offered Erica.

“John?” piped up Cora hesitantly. When John tilted his head at her to continue, she did. “I know I haven’t been back that long, but when I was in Brazil, the former Alpha kind of took me under her wing and taught me to shoot. It was mostly rifles, but I’m not bad with a handgun. Do you mind if I tag along? If I’m not good enough, that’s fine, but I’d like to try.”

“Absolutely,” John agreed easily. “I’ve got some range time for us in about fifteen minutes, why don’t we head out now?”

Cora beamed and left with him, Erica, and Isaac.

Which, of course, left Stiles alone with Peter.

Peter opened his mouth with a sneer, no doubt to say something creepy, but Stiles cut him off quickly. “Why don’t we see how they’re doing in the office?”

Peter chuckled, but followed Stiles easily.

The door was ajar, so they went right in. 

“We heard that out there,” Derek said without preamble. “I think it’s a great idea for us to specialize. We’re adjusting the training schedule accordingly. They’ll all still train to fight hand-to-hand, of course, but not as rigorously.”

“What about us?” Jackson asked, somewhat despondently. “What are we specializing in?”

Laura whacked him on the back of his head. “Fighting, dumbass. It works out perfectly – we’re the four strongest wolves in the pack.” She gestured to herself, Jackson, Derek, and Peter as she spoke.

Jackson looked up hopefully. “We are?”

“She’s right,” Derek offered. “I’m an Alpha, which gives me an advantage. Laura grew up training to become the next Alpha, Peter has always been strong, and you… Jackson, you pinned me while we were sparring three days ago. You’re stronger than you think.”

Jackson preened at the praise.

“Yeah,” added Stiles obnoxiously. “Must be left over from when you had a tail.”

He yelped when Jackson rounded the desk and started chasing him. It took less than a minute for Jackson to catch him and pin him to the ground. 

“What about you, huh?” Jackson asked imperiously from his perch over Stiles. “What team are you on?”

Stiles scoffed. “Me? The Alpha pack doesn’t know I still have my magic now that I’ve turned.” He smiled mischievously. “I’m the ringer.”


	38. Derek Hale is my Alpha

Stiles woke up the next morning to a knock on his door.

“Go away,” he mumbled grumpily, pulling the covers over his head.

The door opened, and Stiles could hear footsteps coming closer to his bed. The bed dipped as his visitor sat down by Stiles’ hip and sighed pointedly.

“I’m bored,” said Cora.

Stiles pouted into his pillow but didn’t emerge from under the covers.

“I brought coffee,” Cora tried again.

That got Stiles’ attention. He threw the covers off of his body and sat up against the headboard. He made grabby hands at the mug Cora was holding and smiled at her gratefully when she passed it to him.

After a few seconds and several gulps, Stiles felt awake enough to attempt conversation. “Where is everyone?”

“Derek and Laura are at the new house with Peter; they’re putting the walls up today. Your dad’s at the station already.”

Stiles nodded absently and took another long sip of his coffee. “How’s it been living with Peter? I bet you’re anxious for the house to be done.”

Cora shrugged. “It’s been fine, honestly. He let me beat him up a couple of times after I found out what he did to Laura, but other than that it’s been surprisingly normal. Didn’t stay there last night, though,” she finished, much too innocently.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

“Oh, you know, crashed with Lydia,” Cora replied with an unconcerned wave. “Wanted to give Peter and your dad some privacy.”

“Cora!” Stiles yelped, throwing his pillow at her head. 

She ducked it expertly and sauntered out the door. “Erica and Boyd’ll be here in a bit,” she called over her shoulder. “When you’re done being traumatized, come down and play some games with us.”

Stiles groaned and leaned against the headboard. He finished his coffee grumpily and got out of bed once he heard the distant rumble of Boyd’s grandma’s car down the street.

They spent most of the morning alternating between Monopoly and Trivial Pursuit. It turned out, Cora and Stiles were too good at the latter, and Erica and Boyd wouldn’t stop cheating during the former. It took three surprisingly short rounds of Monopoly for them to realize Boyd kept volunteering to the banker so he could slip Erica extra money under the table.

The ensuing brawl sent Stiles and Erica, and Boyd and Cora sprawling on the floor, doing their best to spar through their laughter. When they finished, the four of them collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily and still laughing. 

Stiles sat up with a jolt. “Hey,” he exclaimed. “I just fought you without losing control,” he told Erica with a proud grin.

Erica pounced on him happily, lying down on his chest with a pleased grumble. Boyd reached over Cora and clapped him on the shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, until Stiles’ phone rang in his back pocket.

He answered it while the other three went about picking up the game pieces scattered over the floor.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Stiles,” crooned an eerily familiar voice on the other side of the line.

Stiles blood ran cold from just those two words. “Deucalion,” he whispered.

Boyd’s head shot up. Erica and Cora stopped what they were doing and gestured for him to put the phone on speaker.

He did, and set it down on the coffee table so they could surround it.

“What do you want?” Stiles asked.

“I can’t just call my beta to chat? I am your Alpha, after all.”

“You are not my Alpha,” Stiles spat back immediately. “Derek Hale is my Alpha.”

Deucalion tutted on the other end of the phone. “Now, that’s just hurtful. Don’t worry, you’ll come around eventually. 

“What do you want?” Stiles asked impatiently.

Deucalion sighed at the abruptness in Stiles’ tone. “I’d like to talk.”

“And I’d like for you to leave our territory and never return,” Stiles countered. “But we can’t all get what we want.”

“Hmm, such fire,” Deucalion hummed. “Derek’s right – you really will grow to be an extraordinary wolf.”

Stiles gulped audibly and locked eyes with Boyd. “What do you mean, ‘Derek’s right’?”

“Well he’s been bragging about you to Laura all morning,” he responded with a smile in his voice.

Boyd took off into the backyard to call Derek.

“What do you want?” Stiles yelled into the phone. “Why are you doing this? We never did anything to you, why can’t you just leave us alone?”

Deucalion huffed laugh. “You killed one of us. Your pack must pay,” he said simply.

“You kidnapped me for no reason.” Stiles forced himself to take a few deep breaths and calm down; he could feel his wolf trying to break free. “We don’t want to fight you, Deucalion. We will if we have to, but can’t we resolve this peacefully?”

“I’m afraid not. There is an abandoned factory on the south edge of town – do you know it?”

Stiles frowned. “Yeah, I know it.”

“Excellent,” Deucalion said pleasantly, as if he was discussing the weather. “We shall meet there in three days’ time, at noon.”

“Not dusk?” Stiles could help but respond sarcastically. “You supervillains always love to do things at dusk.”

Surprisingly, Deucalion chuckled. “Noon should be fine. I’ll see you then, Stiles.”

The call ended with a click, and Stiles collapsed onto the sofa behind him.

Boyd reemerged from the backyard, looking calm enough that Stiles didn’t panic.

“They’re searching the perimeter around the site, but there’s no sign of him. He must have left before he made the call,” Boyd reported.

Cora sighed, relieved. She sat down next to Stiles and pressed their shoulders together, both needing the reassuring touch.

Boyd and Erica stayed with them until Derek arrived twenty minutes later. Boyd updated Derek on the call while the Alpha held Stiles, scenting him furiously.

They left soon after with Cora to regroup at Jackson’s house. 

Derek and Stiles sat on the couch, holding each other tightly. They stayed there for a while, not sure who was gripping the other more firmly, until Stiles caught a glimpse of the clock.

“I gotta go,” he said, tapping Derek’s arm a few times for him to be let up. “I’ve got a lesson with Deaton.”

Derek whined, but let go. “Lydia’s got a session now, right?”

Stiles nodded while he stretched the stiffness out of his muscles. 

Without a word, Derek disappeared into the kitchen, only to return a few minutes later with two full travel coffee mugs. At Stiles’ questioning look, Derek explained shyly, “Lydia’s always tired after her sessions.”

Stiles cooed and skipped forward to plant a smacking kiss on Derek’s mouth. “You’re really just a big softie, aren’t you?”

“Don’t tell Erica,” Derek growled playfully.

Stiles laughed and hooked their arms together. Derek drove Stiles to his lesson and went inside long enough to bring Lydia her coffee. He was rewarded with an exhausted kiss on the cheek from the banshee.

Once Derek left, Deaton turned to Stiles with a characteristically blank face. “I understand Lydia told you what we’re going to be working on today?”

Stiles nodded enthusiastically, taking a long gulp of his coffee before setting it down on the counter. He locked eyes with Lydia, who took a deep, steadying breath, and nodded.

“Ok,” Stiles said seriously. “Let’s do this.”


	39. Let's go

Stiles trudged through his front door, completely exhausted; it was the night before they were supposed to meet the Alphas, and he’d barely gotten any sleep since his phone call with Deucalion.

Derek looked up from the couch, but made no move to greet Stiles at the door. He looked down at his lap momentarily as if he was considering waking Lydia, who’d fallen asleep with her head pillowed on Derek’s thigh, but he was saved from making the decision when Stiles joined him instead. 

He greeted Derek with a quick kiss, then settled in on Derek’s left side so he wouldn’t jostle Lydia. The two watched whatever was on the TV for a few minutes without absorbing anything they saw, before Derek finally huffed and turned it off altogether.

“You should get some sleep,” he told Stiles, barely keeping his eyes open himself.

“Look who’s talking,” Stiles replied, reaching up to run a thumb over the bags under Derek’s eyes. “I thought you slept some last night while I was with Lydia at Deaton’s?”

Derek shook his head. “Laura’s been staying with Cora at Peter’s, and I can’t sleep alone anymore.”

Stiles frowned. “Why’s Laura staying there? I know things have been better with her and Peter, but I didn’t think she trusted him that much.”

“I think she’s just afraid we’re going to lose Cora again,” Derek said softly.

Stiles cocked his head to the side and brought his hand to the back of Derek’s neck. “And you’re not?”

Derek shook his head with more confidence than he felt. “Nah, I’ve seen Cora during her training – I’m more worried she won’t leave any Alphas for the rest of us to fight.”

Stiles huffed a laugh and dropped his hand, leaning in to place his head on Derek’s chest instead. “You don’t have to sleep alone, you know,” he said after a few minutes of silence.

“Stiles,” Derek said warningly. “I thought we agreed to wait –”

Stiles interrupted him with the flail of his arms. “That’s not what I meant,” he hastened to clarify. “I meant sleep… like actual sleep!”

Derek smiled and pressed a kiss to the corner of Stiles’ mouth before pulling the boy back to his chest. He made a noise that caused his chest to rumble, almost like a purr, until Stiles’ heartbeat was back to normal. “I’d like that,” he whispered into Stiles’ hair. 

Derek smiled again when Stiles’ scent got a happy tinge to it. “Should we wake her up, or let her sleep here?” he asked Stiles quietly, nodding to Lydia.

Stiles hummed. “Why don’t you bring her up to your room while I clean up down here?”

Derek nodded his assent and stood up as gently as possible so he wouldn’t wake the sleeping banshee. Stiles set about picking up the remnants of last night’s puppy pile that had manifested on the floor in the form of wayward blankets, pillows, and chair cushions. 

He zombie-walked up the stairs, nearly ready to give in to his exhaustion, and joined Derek in the bathroom. They brushed their teeth side by side and headed into Stiles room.

Too tired to talk, they got ready for bed and climbed in. Derek turned Stiles over so his back was against the man’s chest and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ neck. 

Stiles couldn’t help but smile and lean into the warmth. Despite the looming threat, he closed his eyes and was asleep within minutes. 

The two woke up to a pointed cough from the doorway. Stiles opened one eye and sat up with a jolt when he realized the cough belonged to his father, just returning from the night shift. 

“He doesn’t sleep well alone,” Stiles said loudly in a panic. 

John raised one eyebrow and looked at his son’s bare chest critically.

“Oh,” Stiles sighed, looking down at himself, then at Derek. He hadn’t realized in his hazy state, but apparently they’d both gone to sleep in nothing but their boxers on.

Derek, who was feigning sleep, had his eyes closed and was pretending to be breathing deeply. 

“Derek, I can hear your heartbeat, I know you’re awake,” Stiles said with a smack to Derek’s hip. “Help me,” he squeaked.

John’s lip curled up into an amused smile.

“Dad,” Stiles tried again. “We were just sleeping, I promise.”

Derek opened his eyes and donned a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, John, but he’s right. Neither of us had slept in a couple of days and it… helps. Us being close.”

John scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Is this a – a mate thing?”

While Stiles choked on air, Derek responded with a firm nod.

“But nothing happened,” Stiles insisted again. “You can even have Peter smell the room if you want.”

“No need – I can do that,” came a sing-song voice, skipping up the stairs. 

Stiles slapped his hand to his forehead and leaned back onto his pillow with a groan.

“Erica,” Derek scolded while rushing to cover Stiles. 

Erica bounced into the room and took a pointed sniff. “Damn, they’re right,” she reported with a pout. “They were just sleeping.”

John rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his face wearily. He went off to bed without another word, leaving Stiles and Derek alone with Erica.

Erica pounced on the two, wiggling until she was between them. “Boyd’s downstairs making pancakes,” she informed them though a yawn. “Laura, Peter, and Isaac are doing their part, and the rest of the pack will be here soon.”

Derek nodded absently, his mind a million miles away. Stiles reached over Erica and ran a hand through Derek’s bed head. He rolled obnoxiously over Erica and took some clothes out of the dresser to start getting ready for the day. 

“Uh uh,” Derek protested sleepily. He nodded towards his shirt on the floor. Stiles hid a grin behind his hand and scooped up his Alpha’s shirt, throwing it on and reveling in their combined scent.

Erica had plastered herself on Derek like a barnacle, so Stiles left them to sleep for a few more minutes while he checked on Lydia.

She was awake, but was still in Derek’s bed. He sat down by her hip and brushed some hair away from her face. “You ready for this?” he asked, after making sure he could hear that Derek and Erica had fallen back asleep.

Lydia took a deep breath, looking at Stiles with a vulnerability in her eyes that he’d never seen before. “What if it doesn’t work?” she whispered.

Stiles shrugged unconcernedly. “Then we use what we’ve got, which, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, is not inconsiderable. We’ve got a strong pack, Lyds, we don’t need our little magic trick to beat the Alphas.”

She rolled her eyes at the nickname, but looked a little more confident. Eventually, she nodded and sat up.

Stiles took that as his cue to leave, and headed down the stairs to join Boyd in the kitchen.

After exchanging a sleepy nod with the beta, Stiles filled up his coffee mug and sat at the kitchen table. He whipped out his phone and hesitated before calling Scott.

He picked up on the second ring. “Hey,” Scott greeted, sounding much more awake than Stiles felt.

There were voices in the background. “Hey, where are you?”

“At the hospital with my mom. I don’t know what the Alphas are up to, but I didn’t want to leave her alone today since you guys have that big meeting.” There was a pause while Scott worked himself up to something. “Are – are you sure you don’t want me to be there?”

Stiles smiled at the question. “Yeah, Scotty. We’ve talked about this; it wouldn’t send a good message to have a local beta who wasn’t pack attend the meeting.”

“But it’s not a meeting. There’s going to be a fight, you know that,” Scott insisted. “They’re not just going to talk things out with you, Stiles.”

“I know that. But you still shouldn’t be there.”

They had the same argument they’d been having for three days, getting louder and louder until Boyd walked over and took the phone from Stiles.

“Hey, Scott,” he said evenly. “Stiles has to go. We’ll make sure and update you when it’s over. Make sure your mom is on standby for injuries.”

With that, he hung up the phone and tossed it back to Stiles with a twinkle in his eye.

By ten, the rest of the pack – minus Peter, Laura, and Isaac – had arrived at the Stilinski house.

They went over the plan three times after breakfast. Chris and Allison took their team (Lydia and Boyd) to go get set up at the warehouse at around eleven. John and his team (Erica, Cora, and Isaac once he was finished with his task) left shortly after.

Stiles, Derek, and Jackson stayed at the house, growing more restless with each passing minute. Finally, Derek’s phone rang.

“Laura,” he answered before the first ring had died.

“All set, Derek,” she said confidently.

Stiles could see the tension in Derek’s shoulders lessen at the confirmation.

Derek nodded and looked around at Stiles and Jackson. “Ok, we’re heading out now, then. Laura?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful,” he told her fiercely before they both hung up.

Derek flashed his red eyes at his two betas. Blue eyes from Jackson and gold eyes from Stiles flashed back at him in return.

“Ok,” Derek said, holding his head high. “Let’s go.”


	40. We fight

Stiles, Derek, and Jackson approached the warehouse cautiously. Derek took a deep inhale, but couldn’t find any trace of the Alphas. The three went inside and stood in the middle of the wide open space. 

There were three doors that led outside, all closed. To their left were a few industrial sized boxes by the wall. Other than that, the warehouse was empty.

Stiles looked up through a hole in the ceiling to their right – a hole Peter and Boyd had put there the day before for their archers. Sure enough, if Stiles squinted, he could just see Allison’s head on the roof next door. He knew Boyd would be with her; Chris and Lydia were closer by, but their scents were masked by the scent blockers Stiles had made for them a while back. 

The whole pack, except Derek, Stiles, and Jackson, were wearing them. Hopefully it would give them a leg up if the Alphas were to attack.

Stiles snuck another furtive glance over at the boxes, hoping for some sign that his dad and the rest of their guns were there. He saw nothing, but if he concentrated he could hear his dad’s heartbeat. Confident that the Alphas wouldn’t be as attuned to it as he was, Stiles sighed.

Derek’s ears perked up when he heard the Alphas approach. A few minutes later, the door opposite them opened, revealing Deucalion, Kali, and two other Alphas Stiles didn’t recognize – twins.

They approached Derek, Stiles, and Jackson confidently, until they were in the middle of the room about with about twenty feet between them. 

Even that was too close for Stiles, who emitted a low whine. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths through his mouth, trying his best not to take in any hint of Deucalion’s scent. He balled his hands into fists and willed away his claws. After a few seconds, he was back in full control of himself and opened his eyes.

Derek spared him a proud rumble, not taking his eyes off of Deucalion.

“Fairly impressive control for a wolf his age,” Deucalion commented lightly. “Though, that’s to be expected from any beta of mine.”

“Not your beta,” Stiles growled, willing his eyes not to glow. “I told you before, Derek Hale is my Alpha.”

“But that’s not all he is, is it?” Deucalion prompted with a smug grin. “It seems you’ve finally found your mate, Derek. Your mother would be proud.” 

Derek didn’t rise to the bait, keeping his heartbeat steady and his claws at bay.

“Although,” Deucalion continued without pausing. “It doesn’t appear that you’ve properly claimed him. Tsk tsk, Derek. You’ll want to get right on that, or else someone might do it for you.”

Stiles growled lowly, but was calmed by a hand on the small of his back. It took a few seconds to realize it was Jackson’s hand, not Derek’s. He shot his friend a grateful nod, then focused back on the Alphas.

“Where is the rest of your pack?” Kali asked from Deucalion’s right. “They didn’t want to see their Alpha get ripped to pieces?”

“I didn’t come here to fight,” Derek said, finally breaking his silence. “I came here to talk.”

Kali and the twins scoffed. Deucalion put his hand up to silence them. Stiles saw the twins flinch at the motion, and set the odd reaction aside for later use.

“I am surprised Scott McCall isn’t here,” Deucalion said, as if Derek had never spoken. “I must admit, he was one of the reasons for our visit.”

Stiles frowned, and couldn’t hold back the question in his throat. “What do you mean? What do you want with Scott?”

“We’d gotten word of a powerful new beta,” Deucalion replied with a grin. “Someone with potential. Of course, when we arrived, we realized we’d been misled. Your pack, however… your pack has potential.”

“So, what?” Jackson asked angrily. “You thought you’d come here and make Derek kill all of us so he could join your little Alphas-only club? Is that how you treat ‘potential’?”

Deucalion simply smiled. “Your betas have fire, Derek. That’s good – a sign of a good Alpha. It will make them harder to kill, but it will make you much more powerful once you do.”

“I’m not killing anyone,” Derek said with conviction.

“You killed Ennis,” Kali spat.

“After you kidnapped my mate,” Derek countered immediately. 

“Enough of this,” Kali said, her eyes glowing red. “Duke, he’s not gonna do it. Just let me kill him.”

Deucalion sighed. “You’re really not, are you?”

Derek shook his head, even though Deucalion couldn’t see it. “I’m not. Are you going to leave Beacon Hills and never return?”

“No,” replied Deucalion, almost regretfully. 

“Then we fight,” Kali concluded gleefully, still waiting for the final signal from Deucalion.

“We fight,” he confirmed.

Kali wasted no time in sprinting full on towards Derek. An arrow lodged itself in her thigh from above, but it hardly slowed her down. 

The twins weren’t far behind, approaching Stiles and Jackson with a tandem roar. 

John and Isaac emerged from behind the boxes with their guns and got a few good shots off at the twins, but nothing lethal. 

Stiles tackled the one on the left while Jackson feinted left and got in a solid right hook to the others’ jaw.

Without a signal that Stiles or Jackson could see, the twins jolted towards each other. One knelt down while the other plunged their hand into his spine. In seconds, the two had formed one giant killing machine with red eyes and sharp fangs. 

Stiles and Jackson exchanged a look of horror before attacking again.

The door to their right burst open. 

Peter led the charge, followed by Nina and Frederick Fowler, Alpha and second of the Fowler pack. The three of them immediately ran to help Stiles and Jackson.

Laura came next, with Terrance Hudson, Alpha of the Hudson pack, and Christina Abrams, beta of the Abrams pack. They joined Derek in his battle against Kali.

Lastly, Julius Kolb and Marcus Henderson, Alpha and second of the Kolb pack, made a beeline for Deucalion.

Seeing that Julius and Marcus were outmatched against Deucalion, Cora and Erica abandoned their post at the boxes and joined the fray.

For several minutes, it was a mess of blood, pained howls, and gunshots. There were bullets and arrows flying everywhere. 

Deucalion had torn his claws through Julius’ stomach; the man was bleeding profusely on the ground next to Marcus, who was sporting a nasty head wound. Cora and Erica were holding him at bay quite well while they waited for Julius and Marcus to heal. Chris’ arrows seemed focused on Deucalion, also trying to buy time until the two healed.

Kali had thrown Christina into the wall nearby, and was only stopped from eviscerating Laura when Derek raked his claws down her back. Terrance took the opportunity to land a punch to her gut, from which she recovered quickly. 

The twins had an advantage in bulk, but Stiles and Peter learned almost immediately that they weren’t as fast in their combined form. The two of them darted forward and backward, inflicting smaller injuries that quickly added up while the twins fought off Jackson, Nina and Frederick’s coordinated attack.

No one seemed to have the upper hand until Stiles heard Lydia’ voice from behind him.

“Stiles, now!”

Stiles ducked away from jumbo wolf’s claws and rolled until he was out of reach. He looked around wildly for Deucalion, whose glasses and walking stick had been knocked away during the fight.

Stiles could tell by the way his head was tilted that he was using his hearing to locate his opponents.

Stiles nodded at Lydia, who took in a deep breath. He brought the strength of his spark to his palms and grounded himself to his pack surrounding him. 

Lydia’s banshee scream pierced through the sounds of the battle. Stiles used his magic to bend the sound to his will, focusing its entirety towards Deucalion’s ears.

The wolf clapped his hands to his ears uselessly. Stiles sent an extra burst of energy into the scream, causing it to slip through Deucalion’s fingers further into his ear canal. He could tell when Deucalion’s eardrums burst by the howl the man let out as he dropped to his knees.

Cora and Erica took the opportunity to rake their claws against Deucalion’s legs, severing his hamstrings and Achilles tendons. The actions rendered him immobile, and he could do nothing but lay on the floor in agony.

The twins hesitated when they saw Deucalion’s state. They split from their combined form and held off Jackson, Nina, Frederick, and Peter long enough to put their hands up in surrender.

Stiles took the opportunity to wave his hand at the pair, binding their hands and feet with wolfsbane ropes.

Lydia had collapsed onto the floor after letting out her scream. Chris wasted no time in scooping her up and bringing her outside, away from the fight.

“It’s over, Kali,” Derek said as she continued to attack. She had incapacitated Christina and Terrance, who were slowly healing on the floor. 

Laura and Derek circled the enraged Alpha, who showed no signs of stopping.

“I don’t care!” she shouted, baring her teeth. “I don’t care about Deucalion, I cared about Ennis. And you killed him,” she spat at Derek.

Kali turned to face Derek as she spoke, which left her back open to Laura. Derek shook his head at Laura when she silently asked him if she should attack. 

Derek put his hands up, suddenly aware that the warehouse had gone silent. The only sounds were Deucalion’s pained moans where he still lay on the floor. “I don’t want to hurt you, Kali.”

The rest of the pack and the visiting wolves who were well enough to stand formed a circle around the three still fighting. Isaac ran from behind the boxes to aid Christina and Terrance while they healed.

“Well that’s a shame,” Kali said, deadly quiet. She pulled out one of the many wolfsbane-soaked arrows that littered her body and hurled it at Derek as she advanced. It lodged itself in his chest, causing him to stumble backwards as Stiles shouted.

Kali roared. “Because I want to hurt you.”


	41. A decision

Derek hadn’t yet recovered from the shock of the arrow Kali had thrown before he was hit square in the jaw. He reacted instinctively, throwing all of his body weight into the move as he tackled Kali to the ground.

They rolled around for several minutes, trading blows. Derek saw an arrow sticking out of Kali’s arm, and pushed it further in. Kali growled and knocked the one in Derek’s chest, causing Derek to howl in pain.

They were moving too much for anyone to risk firing a bullet or an arrow at Kali. It would just as likely hit Derek.

Stiles was struggling with his magic as well for the same reason. He huffed in frustration as he wracked his brain trying to think of a way to help his mate.

After a few seconds, Stiles realized with a burst of pride that Derek didn’t need his help – he was winning.

Derek used his legs to gain leverage against Kali, wrapping them around her waist while she had him pinned. He used them to turn her over and flip their positions so she was stuck underneath him. It was a move Cora had used against him only a week ago.

While he had her pinned, he grabbed her left arm and pulled it across her body, forcing her head to the side so he could roar in her ear in an attempt to get her to surrender. It was something he’d seen Erica do to Peter during their first sparring lesson together.

With a well-timed kick, Kali was able to get out from underneath Derek and stood up to face him. Stiles saw Derek feint left, then right, then left again, fooling Kali into lunging the wrong direction. While Kali’s back was turned, Derek grabbed her by the neck and took out her feet – something Jackson prided himself on doing during every training lesson where he was one-on-one with another wolf.

Derek didn’t need his pack to help him; they already had.

Stiles looked around the circle and saw his awe reflected in the faces of his pack members as they realized what was happening. 

Their Alpha hadn’t just been teaching them all this time, he’d been learning from them.

With Kali on the ground and Derek hovering over her, Derek took full advantage of their positions and grabbed Kali by the throat. 

“I don’t want to kill you, Kali,” he warned her while baring his teeth.

“You’re gonna have to, because I won’t stop until you’re dead,” she shouted forcefully, struggling against his hold.

Derek looked torn. He looked up until his eyes met Stiles’. The two had a silent conversation, which was interrupted when Kali swiped at Derek’s stomach. She used his momentary disorientation to try and gain the upper hand. She shot to her feet and lunged at Derek with her claws outstretched.

Derek dodged the attack and with a single swipe of his claws, tore Kali’s throat out.

Kali dropped to the ground and was dead within seconds. Stiles raced towards Derek, who had fallen to his knees holding his bloody hands in front of his face.

Stiles heard Laura and Boyd giving orders to move the injured wolves, the twins, and Deucalion. Peter and Cora took Kali’s body. The warehouse cleared out in minutes, leaving Derek and Stiles alone slumped on the floor.

“Stiles,” Derek whined, leaning into the younger man. 

Stiles grabbed Derek’s hands and started wiping the blood off of his claws. He held Derek for a long time, trusting that the pack could take care of things for a while.

When Derek had calmed enough to be breathing deeply with Stiles, they stood. “I killed her,” Derek said despondently. 

Stiles just nodded. “You did. But you had to.”

Derek shook his head, but didn’t argue. 

Stiles looked at the arrow in Derek’s chest and felt sick. “I have to get that out of you,” he whispered.

Derek looked down, surprised, as if he’d forgotten it was there. He steeled himself against Stiles and sent him a firm nod.

Letting a big breath out, Stiles pulled as hard as he could. The arrow dislodged, and Stiles wasted no time in using his spark to produce a flame to burn the wolfsbane out of Derek’s system.

After regaining his breath again, Derek wrapped his arms tightly around Stiles’ shoulders. Stiles responded with an enthusiasm that would have broken a human’s spine, but just caused Derek to chuckle under his breath. 

He grabbed Stiles’ hand and headed back to the Stilinski house, where the rest of the pack and the visitors were waiting. 

Cora and Peter were in the living room, but they didn’t say anything about what they’d done with Kali’s body. Derek didn’t ask.

“Deucalion?” Stiles queried, looking around but not seeing the man.

Laura nodded at the ceiling. “Upstairs. Christina and Marcus are up there too, but they’ll be fine. Scott’s mom is looking at them now.”

Stiles frowned and looked around until his eyes landed on Scott. He huffed a laugh and gave his friend a one-armed hug.

Scott shrugged. “Boyd told me to have mom on standby, so…”

After ruffling Scott’s hair, Stiles moved onto more pressing matters. He opened his mouth to ask about the Alpha twins, but was distracted by the sight of the three visiting Alphas speaking to each other in hushed tones in the backyard. “What’s that about?” he asked instead with a nod outside.

“I think they’re talking about the twins,” Jackson responded, not opening his eyes. He was sitting on the couch with his head hanging back against the cushion. Laura had flung her feet into his lap unceremoniously, but it was a testament to their friendship that he didn’t displace them.

Stiles frowned, but left it alone. “Where’s Lydia? She upstairs?”

Cora shook her head. “Chris and Allison took her to their place to recuperate. She’ll be fine. Erica’s with her too.”

“And the twins?” Stiles asked, running his hands over his face with a groan.

“In my office,” his dad responded, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ shoulder.

He leaned into his dad’s familiar embrace and allowed himself to close his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he saw that Derek had joined the Alphas outside for their discussion. 

“Hey!” Stiles heard Scott exclaim.

Stiles whipped his head around to see that Peter had whacked him over the head.

“No eavesdropping on Alpha conversations,” Peter scolded.

“I wasn’t,” Scott mumbled, rubbing the back of his head with a grumpy frown.

Peter shook his head admonishingly. “If you’d come to any one of my pack etiquette classes…”

“I’m not part of your pack,” Scott countered.

“And who said they were exclusively for the pack, huh? Chris came to one and he’s not pack,” Peter sneered.

They continued to bicker back and forth until the back door opened the Alphas filed into the house.

“We have come to a decision regarding the twins,” Nina announced without preamble. Frederick stood up from the armchair he’d been resting in and flanked his Alpha instinctively.

Laura sat up, giving her full attention to the Alphas. She scooted over so she was flush against Jackson. Isaac sank onto the couch on her other side.

“Several years ago,” Julius began, “we were in talks with their Alpha to form an alliance between our pack and theirs. The alliance fell through when we found out that he had been abusing his betas.” He lowered his head in shame. “I was not the Alpha back then, but had I been, we certainly would have handled things differently.”

He cleared his throat and looked up. “I would like to try and integrate them into my pack, but not as Alphas.”

There were a few murmurs in the living room, until Derek put up a hand to silence them.

“There is a ritual,” Terrance said from the doorway. “An old ritual that would allow us to take their Alpha power and transfer it to a willing beta.” He looked around at Derek and continued after a nod from the man. “Laura Hale, you were trained by one of the greatest Alphas I have ever known.”

Laura stood up, utterly shocked, but made no move to approach Terrance. Jackson stood up next to her on instinct.

“Laura,” Terrance said with the hint of a grin on his face. “Would you like to be an Alpha again?”


	42. I'm in

To say that Laura looked dumbstruck would be an understatement. She recovered from her shock quickly, however, and addressed Terrance only a few moments after he had finished speaking. 

“I will need to discuss this with my Alpha and my emissary,” she said, her firm voice not wavering.

“Of course,” replied Nina, unconcerned.

Derek stepped forward and ushered Laura out into the front yard. Stiles followed and waved his hand in an arch around them, sealing an invisible, sound proofed dome over their heads.

“Derek,” Laura began brokenly. 

“I know,” Derek whispered, pulling Laura to his chest. “But you were a great Alpha to me, and I know you would be again if that’s what you choose.”

“How would that even work?” she asked, taking a step back from her brother. “I won’t split this pack up, Derek.”

Derek shook his head emphatically. “That’s not our only option. We’re not a traditional pack; we can have more than one Alpha.”

“He’s right,” Stiles piped up. “It’s unusual, but it’s actually not unprecedented. In my lessons with Deaton, I read about a few packs who integrated other Alphas into their hierarchy. Usually it happened when one of the existing betas had to kill an Alpha to protect the pack, but like Derek said, we’re not traditional.”

Laura took a deep breath while she considered her options. “You would trust me with this much power?”

“Absolutely,” said Derek without hesitation while Stiles nodded.

“How would this work?” she asked. “What if we disagree about something?”

Derek chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll disagree about a lot of things, but we’ll figure it out. That’s why we have seconds, and an emissary.”

Laura opened and closed her mouth a few times. Stiles caught on to what she was trying to ask and hastened to answer. “I would, of course, be your emissary as well. We’re all in the same pack,” he reassured her.

She took a deep, relieved breath. “Ok,” she said more to herself than anyone. “Ok.” She nodded a few times and met Derek’s eyes. “I’m in.”

Derek hugged her again. “You’re going to be great, Laura.”

Stiles smiled. “You’ll need a second.”

“Jackson,” she said automatically.

“Ew,” Stiles blanched. “I mean, good choice,” he corrected, after a stern frown from Derek.

But Laura just laughed. “I know he may not seem like the obvious choice, but we work well together, and he’s not afraid to tell me when he thinks I’m making the wrong decision. We worked together a lot planning our training schedules, and I think he’ll be a great second. To me,” she added, grinning at the thought of Derek and Jackson trying to navigate that kind of relationship.

Derek smiled at his sister, reaching out for her hand. They walked back into the house with their heads held high. Stiles trailed behind them after taking down the soundproofed barrier.

Laura walked up to the three Alphas in the kitchen. Terrance, Nina, and Julius stopped their conversation and gave Laura their full attention.

“It would be an honor,” she said.

Julius and Terrance sent her twin smiles, while Nina nodded at her approvingly. 

“Very well, let’s get started,” Nina proclaimed. The four of them went into the office where the twins were waiting. Since none of them beckoned for Stiles to join them, he stayed back.

Derek, still giddy at the thought of his sister becoming an Alpha, beamed at his pack and began issuing orders. “Peter, Boyd, keep watch over Deucalion – I don’t think he’s going anywhere any time soon, but I don’t like the thought of him being upstairs with Melissa all alone.” They nodded and ran up the stairs, with Frederick following as backup, muttering something about checking on Christina and Marcus as well.

“Isaac, there are some books Stiles mentioned that Deaton has at the clinic that talk about packs with more than one Alpha, can you go get them?” Isaac stood up and nodded.

“I’ll go with him,” Scott offered with some hesitance in his voice. “I – I mean I have a key and I don’t think Deaton’s there right now. So I can go… let him in.”

Derek smiled warmly at the beta. “That would be great, thank you.”

“I’m going to go back to the warehouse,” offered John. “I don’t want anyone to wander in and find a bunch of shell casings and blood stains.”

Cora looked at Derek and nodded her head at John, silently asking if the Alpha wanted her to join him. Derek nodded at her, and she took off behind the Sheriff.

“What about me?” asked Jackson when he noticed he was alone with Derek and Stiles.

“Call Allison for an update on Lydia,” Derek instructed, dropping onto the couch with a weary sigh.

Jackson raised an eyebrow. “You want me to call, not go over and check on her?”

Derek shook his head. “No, Laura’s going to want to talk to you after the ritual is over.”

Jackson frowned a bit in confusion, but shrugged and went outside to make the call. 

Stiles plopped down next to Derek and rubbed his hands over his face.

Derek hooked his arm over Stiles’ shoulder and pulled him close. Stiles pressed his cheek to Derek’s chest and closed his eyes.

They sat like that for a few minutes until Jackson returned from the backyard. “She’s awake,” he reported, unnecessarily given that Stiles and Derek had both been listening.

Stiles sat up with a jolt when he felt Laura’s pack bond vibrate in his chest. He smiled wildly and stood up, looking towards the office door.

Laura burst out of the office, her red eyes shining stunningly. The other Alphas waited just in front of the door, with varying degrees of happiness reflected on their faces.

She bounded over to Derek and pulled him to his feet, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tightly. 

“Oof,” Derek sighed. “Definitely an Alpha.”

Laura let go with an apologetic wince, but started smiling again when she saw Jackson on the couch.

“Jackson,” she said formally.

At her tone, the beta stood up.

“I would like you to be my second.” When he didn’t respond right away, she continued. “What do you think?”

Stiles elbowed a shell-shocked Jackson in the ribs, prompting him to speak. “Of course. Are – are you sure?”

Laura just smiled. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Jackson smiled genuinely at her. He moved forward as if to hug her, but stopped like he wasn’t sure it was allowed. 

“Oh, come here,” Laura laughed, pulling Jackson in for a hug. Jackson was a little unsure what to do with his hands, but eventually he settled for patting her on the back a few times. 

“So they’re betas now? Both of them?” Derek asked Laura when they had separated, nodding towards the office.

“Yes,” replied Nina, stepping forward into the living room. “Since they gained their Alpha powers by killing a single Alpha together, they only had the power of one Alpha. We have taken that power and given it to Laura completely.”

“I have called my emissary, and she is readying the pack for their arrival,” Julius offered. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on Marcus.” He jogged up the stairs just as Peter was coming down. 

“Good color on you,” Peter sighed, pointing at Laura’s eyes. 

Laura flashed them briefly before letting them fade back to brown. “Thanks,” she replied shyly. 

Neither of them knew what to say beyond that; the last time he’d seen her eyes glowing red, he’d killed her.

“Ah, see,” Nina broke the silence. “This is why we didn’t bring Simon. With all this Alpha power floating around, the last thing we need is an Alpha like him.”

Peter laughed somewhat hollowly. “Right. Well, I hear John and Cora are our cleanup crew? I think I’ll go and help them.” He cleared his throat before he left and looked back at Laura. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you,” Laura mumbled, sighing in relief.


	43. Something mindless

Julius and Marcus jogged down the stairs just after the door shut behind Peter. Marcus looked completely healed, which boded well for Christina, who was still upstairs being looked at by Melissa.

“Well,” boomed Julius. “We should be heading out. The twins ok to travel?”

Stiles nodded and waved his hands towards the two, unbinding their hands and feet. They grumbled, rubbing their wrists, but said nothing.

“Come on,” said Marcus jovially, throwing an arm around one of their shoulders and leading them out to the car.

“Unless you need some help with Deucalion?” Julius asked, pausing at the door.

“Actually,” Derek responded. “I have an idea about what to do with him, so you’re ok to leave. And thank you,” he added, stepping forward to shake the man’s hand. “For all of your help.”

Julius shook Derek’s hand firmly and departed.

“What is your idea?” Terrance asked, gesturing for everyone to sit in the living room. 

Once they were all situated, Derek spoke. “As you know, our pack includes two hunters.”

Nina and Terrance both nodded once. Stiles smirked at Derek’s mention of Chris as pack, but schooled his face when Derek continued.

“During their reign, the Alpha pack didn’t just destroy other packs; they killed their fair share of hunters. Hunters have their own way of dealing with people like Deucalion. They have trials and facilities that can contain threats like him.”

“So you’re suggesting we let hunters deal with him?” Nina clarified, her tone frustratingly blank.

“I’m saying it’s an option,” Derek responded diplomatically.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Laura agreed. “They have the means to deal with an Alpha with Deucalion’s power. We don’t. And the Argents know of a few facilities that specialize in rehabilitation, rather than just containment.”

Nina and Terrance exchanged a look. 

“Have you seen these facilities?” Nina asked.

Derek shook his head. “No, but Chris has. I’m sure he would be more than willing to allow you to accompany him when he transports Deucalion, so you can see for yourself.”

“I would accompany you as well,” Laura said when Nina blanched at the thought of going with a hunter to a compound where they keep werewolves as prisoners. 

Nina relaxed at that and conceded. “Very well. Frederick?” she called, barely raising his voice.

The others in the room heard his booming voice from upstairs agreeing with the plan.

Stiles pulled out his phone and texted Allison and Chris. After a few seconds, they each responded.

“Chris is on his way with the van,” he reported. 

Jackson bounded up the stairs and returned with Boyd, each holding one of Deucalion’s arms over their shoulders.

Since Deucalion’s hearing was still impaired, Stiles stopped them at the door and, rather than speaking to him, placed his hand on Deucalion’s chest. He focused his energy and pressed hard on the Alpha’s sternum.

Deucalion gasped, then shuddered. When Stiles stepped back, he saw a resigned look on the man’s face.

They carted him outside when Chris turned into the driveway. Nina, Frederick, and Laura got in the van with Chris, and they were off.

“What did you do to him?” Derek asked curiously.

“I, um… I locked his wolf inside of him. He won’t be able to shift or use his abilities until I allow it,” Stiles responded cautiously. 

Terrance looked at him with wide eyes. “You can do that?” he whispered, clearly a little frightened.

Stiles shrugged. “Yeah, but don’t worry – I only use my powers for good.” He tried to temper the mood with jazz hands and was happy when it looked like it worked a little bit.

Terrance shook his head, bewildered, but gave Stiles a begrudging smile. “Alright,” he said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “I should probably get back home; Amelia’s starting to worry about me.” He looked up the stairs, frowning. “Christina ok? I know her parents… maybe I should get her home.”

Derek went upstairs to check on their last patient. Melissa gave her the all-clear, so she slid out of bed with a grimace and gratefully accepted Terrance’s offer to drive her home.

Melissa headed out for a shift at the hospital, pausing briefly to give Stiles a hug. She put a lot of feeling into it, knowing full well how strained his relationship had been lately with Scott.

After she was gone, Stiles was surprised to hear Boyd laugh. He looked up from his phone and answered Jackson, who had clearly just texted him from across the room. “Yes, we can grab a bite. Jackson asked me on a date,” he stage whispered to Derek.

“I did NOT ask you on a date!” Jackson protested. “I just asked you if we could talk, you know, about second stuff.”

Boyd laughed again and grinned cheekily at Jackson. “Whatever,” he said airily, grabbing his coat. “You’re buying.”

Jackson grumbled, but followed Boyd out the front door. 

“Want to do something mindless?” Stiles asked Derek, now that they were alone.

“Yes, please,” Derek responded, slumping over in relief.

Stiles laughed and positioned Derek so he was sitting against the arm of the couch with Stiles cushioned between his legs. He pressed his back against Derek’s chest and smiled happily when Derek wrapped his arms around his waist.

Stiles turned on the TV and flipped until he found a movie they’d both already seen.

Scott and Isaac returned from the animal clinic before the movie was over. It was a testament to how much Scott had matured over the last few weeks that he didn’t mention Stiles and Derek’s cuddle session on the couch.

Stiles sat up excitedly when the two entered with the books. “I’m gonna start reading these now,” he told Derek with a kiss to the man’s cheek. He grabbed the books out of Scott and Isaac’s arms and disappeared into his dad’s office.

Derek nodded absently, stretching as he sat up straighter.

“Hey, Derek?” Isaac asked. There was hesitation in his voice, but his eyes lit up with excitement. “Can we play the game?”

Scott looked between the two in confusion. “What game?”

Derek just chuckled and nodded. 

Isaac fist pumped in excitement and sat down on the coffee table across from Derek. “Come on, Scott, come play.”

“It’s a training exercise,” Derek offered, still grinning. “I mimic an emotion and the betas have to guess what it is using only their scent.”

Scott looked intrigued, but still hesitant. Isaac rolled his eyes and pulled on Scott’s sleeve until they were both seated on the table.

It only took a few minutes for Scott to get into the game completely. 

Stiles smiled to himself, listening to Scott and Isaac shout, “Anger… Confusion…Sadness!” After a little while, he waved his hand to soundproof the room from outside noise and lost himself in his research.

He was joined an indeterminate amount of time later by Lydia pulling up a chair beside him. He took a second to be grateful that she was ok, before launching out of his chair and sweeping her off her feet.

Lydia laughed and patted him on the back as he put her down. “I’m fine, really.”

Stiles still sniffed her for injuries before pulling back fully and chuckling at himself. 

“I can’t believe that worked,” he whispered, as if saying it too loudly would break some kind of spell.

Lydia just nodded, eyes glassy. “Well,” she said eventually, “let’s get back to work, huh? Derek filled us in on everything; Erica’s out there playing with Isaac and Scott. Ally’s back too, but she wanted to stay and watch.”

Stiles nodded and the two sat down to look further into multi-Alpha packs.


	44. You sure?

The next few weeks passed without incident until suddenly it was time for school to start again. Stiles, whose seventeenth birthday came and went in a blur of make out sessions with Derek and too much ice cream cake, found that he was oddly excited to go back.

“I’ve got people,” he explained simply, when Derek asked him why. He shrugged, but knew his heartbeat was giving away his happiness. “I mean, most people say junior year’s the hardest because it’s the one colleges look at the most, and I’ve got AP’s and SATs, but I’ve never really had people to help me with those things. I had Scott, but he’s not people… he’s, well, person and –”

Derek cut him off with a kiss. Stiles closed his eyes and let himself be led to the couch. They exchanged lazy kisses for several minutes, neither feeling the need to take things further. Though both heard the approaching sound of Lydia’s car, they didn’t break apart until they heard her impatient huff after she’d let herself into the house and found them in their current position.

“Stiles,” she admonished. “You were supposed to meet me outside; we have a lot of back to school shopping to do. And you,” she pointed at Derek sternly. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the site today? Peter said they were putting the finishing touches on the outside of the house this afternoon. Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Derek, at least, had the good sense to look ashamed. Stiles just groaned at Lydia and gestured to Derek as if she was supposed to understand why he was late meeting her.

Lydia rolled her eyes and pulled on Stiles’ arm until he was standing. She fixed Derek with a stern look.

“You’re not my Alpha,” he pouted maturely, though he stood up and grabbed his coat from the hook by the door all the same.

“No,” she agreed with a triumphant smile. “But I am your best friend and you’ll listen to me anyway.”

They bickered about Lydia’s supposed best friend status all the way to the car, prompting Lydia to fish Derek’s phone out of his back pocket and show him their shockingly long text chain and recent call list.

Stiles followed them sedately, shaking his head at the two as they continued to bicker when they were seated in her car.

Derek texted Stiles pictures of the nearly-finished house and Stiles texted him back pictures of himself in different outfits Lydia picked out for him to try on. 

It was normal, and wonderful.

“Why is everyone staring at me?” Stiles whispered to Lydia when they walked through the school doors the next day. 

“I don’t know if you know this, Batman,” said Erica, appearing out of nowhere on Stiles’ other side. “But you got hot over the summer.”

Stiles looked at her as if she’d grown another head. “Me?”

Lydia nodded. “She’s right. You grew out your hair, got a new wardrobe that actually accentuates your assets – you’re welcome, by the way – and it probably doesn’t hurt that pretty much everyone knows by now that you’re dating the hottest guy in Beacon Hills.”

Stiles spluttered indignantly for a few seconds, coming to a halt in the middle of the hallway while he digested this information.

Erica and Lydia rolled their eyes at each other and each grabbed one of his arms, linking theirs through his and walking him down the hallway to his locker.

Stiles took a few deep breaths after opening it, trying to anchor himself to his packmates. It was a little overwhelming, being in such an enclosed space with so many sounds and smells. His wolf was restless inside of him, but he concentrated on Lydia’s perfume and the soft, reassuring rumble Erica was emitting to center himself.

He had just appeased his wolf when a snippet of someone’s conversation caught his attention.

‘Did you hear he’s dating Derek Hale?’

‘Hale? No way! I heard he joined a cult.’

‘That would make sense – how else could he bag someone like that unless brainwashing was involved.’

Stiles’ whine got caught in the back of his throat while Erica growled a little louder than she should have. It caused a few passing students to give her a wide berth, but Erica couldn’t care less.

“What is it?” asked Lydia, looking around with a frown.

Before either of them could answer her, their attention was drawn to the other side of the hallway by the sound of a body being pressed aggressively against the lockers.

Jackson had the guy who’d made the crack about brainwashing by the front of his shirt. He leaned in close to they were almost nose-to-nose. “You got a problem with Stilinski, Carter?”

Stiles took a look at the kid and immediately recognized him from the lacrosse team.

Carter shook his head emphatically, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “N-no. No problem.”

Jackson stepped back and let go of Carter’s shirt, smoothing it down threateningly. “I thought not. Get out of here before I tell coach you were talking shit about one of our teammates.”

Carter nearly tripped over his own feet trying to get away from Jackson. He ducked his head as he passed Stiles, determined not to look him in the eye.

Jackson joined the three of them at Stiles’ locker, looking surprisingly shy.

“Aw, buddy,” Stiles crooned, clapping Jackson on the shoulder. “I knew you secretly loved me.”

“Shut it, Stilinski.” He ducked his head as he said it, ruining the effect of his words. 

Lydia grabbed Jackson’s hand and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek before leading him towards their first class.

Erica rolled her eyes at the whole situation and grabbed Stiles’ books before launching herself onto his back. He hooked his hands under her knees instinctively and laughed. “Where to, m’lady?”

“Onward,” she replied imperiously. “To Physics.”

There were a few more whispers and pointed looks throughout the day, but Stiles never had to endure them alone. He had at least one pack member in each of his classes, and Jackson, Boyd, Isaac, Cora, and Scott were all on the lacrosse team with him. He’d been practicing the last few weeks with the pack, so he wouldn’t lose control the first time he was hit, and he managed to make it through practice without incident.

Unsurprisingly, he found himself once again with a carful of beta werewolves at the end of the day. “Déjà vu,” he muttered to himself as he drove them to the new Hale house site.

He pulled up the driveway and couldn’t help but gasp. He had only been to the old Hale house once when it was still standing – his mom had brought him for trick or treating when he was nine – and the masterpiece that stood in its place was just as majestic.

“Derek,” he sighed, knowing his wolf would hear him.

Sure enough, Derek looked up from the blueprints on a folding table on the front lawn and smiled. Stiles scrambled out of the car after Erica, Isaac, and Boyd, and made his way towards the porch steps.

He stopped at the table and greeted his boyfriend with a peck on the lips. 

“What do you think?” asked Derek, holding his breath and eying Stiles nervously.

“It’s breathtaking, Der. Really.”

Derek sighed in relief and fixed Stiles with a blinding smile that Stiles couldn’t help but reciprocate. They turned their attention to the blueprints while the other betas roamed the property with Laura and Peter pointing out different aspects of the new house.

“This,” Derek said, gesturing to one of the two master bedrooms – a stipulation that Derek and Laura had agreed upon – “will be our room.”

Stiles eyebrows made a break for his hairline. “Our room?” he repeated, delighted. 

Derek’s blush trailed down past his collar. Stiles leaned forward and pressed light kisses down the column of his throat, eliciting a shiver from the Alpha. “Stiles, focus,” he managed through a deep chuckle.

“Hm?” Stiles asked, inhaling Derek’s scent greedily. His eyes fluttered closed.

Derek just laughed and pulled his head up so he could give Stiles a proper kiss. “I. Need. Your. Input.” He punctuated each word with a kiss, prompting Stiles to blush uncontrollably until he took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Stiles shook his head to attempt to clear his mind and looked back down at the blueprints, still grinning madly.

“Ok,” he said with a firm nod. “Our room. Got it.”

They spent the next few minutes ironing out the details. The interior of the house was set to be finished within the month, and Derek had put Lydia and Isaac in charge of decorating. Isaac, who had never really gotten the chance to decorate his own room, jumped at the opportunity to help out. Laura agreed that he should be in charge of the paint colors for each room; a job he took very seriously.

Before Stiles knew it, the house was ready. He practically vibrated with excitement as Derek gave him a tour of the gigantic kitchen, living room that could comfortably seat twenty people, game room, library – which was something out of his wildest Beauty and the Beast fantasies – panic room, and two floor’s worth of bedrooms and offices. 

The last stop on the tour was their bedroom on the second floor. Derek stood in the doorway while Stiles explored their en suite bathroom with double sinks, their two walk in closets, and finally, their king sized bed. Stiles took a running jump and nearly disappeared into the down comforter as he landed on the bed.

Derek huffed a laugh and strode across the room to join his mate. They lay side-by-side on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Stiles reached out blindly and found Derek’s hand, tangling their fingers together. They stayed there for a while, listening to the sounds of their pack exploring the house through the open bedroom door. 

“Thank you,” Derek whispered after a few minutes.

Stiles smirked. “You took my line.”

Derek chuckled under his breath and turned to face Stiles. “I love you.”

Stiles’ eyes slipped closed as he smiled involuntarily. “You did it again.” He turned on his side and snuggled closer, pulling Derek forward so their foreheads pressed together.

He opened his eyes and knew they were glowing gold. Derek’s flashed red in response.

Stiles rubbed his nose against Derek’s and took a deep breath. “I love you, too, you know,” he told the man softly.

“You sure?” Derek’s tone was lighthearted, but his face betrayed his vulnerability. 

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life,” Stiles promised him.

“Oh.” Derek looked down at Stiles’ mouth and darted forward to cover it with his own. “Ok, good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! 
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking with me through my (sometimes inconsistently timed) updates! Your comments and kudos mean a lot!
> 
> <3


	45. Epilogue

“She’s not going to say no,” Stiles told Derek for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“But what if she does?” he asked, almost indecipherably from under the covers of their bed.

Stiles groaned and planted himself on Derek’s back, pressing him further into the mattress and wiggling so that his nose was pressed into the back of the man’s neck. “Why would she? Laura wants you to be happy, and this will make you happy, right?”

“Right,” Derek replied begrudgingly, lifting his head for a moment before letting it plop back down with a groan.

Stiles shook his head grinned evilly, even though Derek couldn’t see him. He pulled the covers down just enough to expose Derek’s shoulder blades. 

Stiles smiled again as he caught sight of the mating bite he’d given Derek on the night of his eighteenth birthday. The scar was shock white against Derek’s tan skin, a few inches to the right of the man’s tattoo. Stiles ducked down and pressed his teeth against it, eliciting a shiver from the Alpha.

“No fair,” Derek whined, pushing up against the contact. He rolled over suddenly and had Stiles pinned in seconds. He looked down at his mate reverently, his thumb absently tracing his own mating bite scar on Stiles’ left hip.

They both lost themselves for a few seconds, remembering the night they’d cemented their bond. Derek was sure Cora had insisted on soundproof bedrooms during construction solely in preparation for Stiles’ birthday, but they’d certainly tested the boundaries of the soundproofing that night.

Stiles came back to himself first and nuzzled up into Derek’s chest. “Let’s go talk to her now. She just got back from the night shift, and Boyd’s making breakfast.

Derek perked up at that. “French toast?” he asked hopefully. 

Shaking his head fondly, Stiles scooted his way out from underneath Derek, pulling the man with him. They got dressed and ambled down the stairs, not quite awake.

Lydia greeted the two of them with coffee, made perfectly to their preferences, of course. Derek pouted at the banshee and dropped his forehead to her shoulder, whining about having been woken so early. Lydia just smiled and ran her fingers through his hair for a few seconds before manhandling him into an upright position gently.

Erica took over from there and guided him to the kitchen table to wait with her while Boyd finished the first round of food.

“Laura,” Stiles called to the unmoving mass passed out on the sofa in the living room.

There was a grumble from the sleeping Alpha, still wearing her deputy uniform, so Stiles took that as confirmation that she was starting to wake up. He gave her some time to join them in the kitchen.

“What?” she asked groggily, plopping into a seat across from Derek. She reached over the table and stole some of her brother’s bacon, which he hardly noticed in his tired state. 

Stiles kicked Derek under the table, prompting the man to jerk upright. He looked at Stiles, betrayed, until he finally noticed that Laura had joined them.

Derek looked at Laura and took a deep breath, all signs of sleepiness gone. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Laura cocked her head to the side, listening to Derek’s heartbeat. She smirked, suddenly much more awake. “Does this have something to do with those college applications you sent that you think I didn’t know about?”

Derek’s jaw dropped indignantly as he frowned. “You knew? You knew the whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

She reached over and placed her hand on top of his. “Because I knew you’d bring it up when you were ready to talk about it.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but his face and posture softened at her words. “So… so you’d be ok looking after the territory while I went to school?”

Laura nodded. “Of course, Der.” She shot him a genuine smile, squeezing his hand once before pulling it back. “Have you decided where you’re going yet?”

“Boston University,” Derek responded almost giddily. 

“With Jackson?” Laura smirked. 

“Yup,” Stiles piped up through a mouthful of French toast. “And with Lydia and me at MIT, the four of us can get an apartment off campus.”

“You and Jackson can be study buddies,” Isaac offered with a grin from the living room.

“Doubtful,” Jackson said, hoisting his feet into Isaac’s lap. “I’m majoring in Political Science; I don’t think there’s going to be a lot of crossover with Comparative Literature.”

“As fascinating as this conversation is,” sneered Peter as he descended the stairs. “I’m off to see John. Congratulations, Derek.”

Derek nodded in thanks, his mouth curling up into a small smile when Peter gripped his shoulder as he passed on his way to the front door.

“Don’t let my dad have any –”

“Any of the cake the station got for Deputy Parrish’s birthday, I know,” Peter cut Stiles off without turning around. 

Stiles smiled begrudgingly at his back as the wolf left out the front door without another word. 

Cora and Allison joined the rest of them in the kitchen a few minutes later with twin yawns. The pack hadn’t said anything when the two started sharing a room at the beginning of senior year, and by now it was pretty uncommon to see one without the other. 

Much to Chris’ chagrin, the two of them had decided to take a gap year to backpack through Europe together. After a few nights of complaining about it to Laura, he came around to the idea and even offered to help pay for the excursion.

Cora and Allison’s relationship came as a shock to Scott, but he was too head over heels in love with the new transfer student, Kira, to be upset about it. Scott and Kira both would be attending UC Davis in the Fall, which would be good for Scott. He still hadn’t officially joined the pack, but he kept a good enough relationship with everyone that he avoided falling into omega status.

“You guys ready?” Laura called to Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. The three of them nodded and headed for the door in varying degrees of wakefulness. 

“Oh, you’re taking them on a tour of Beacon Hills Community College today, aren’t you?” Derek asked her thoughtfully. She nodded on the way to the coffee machine to freshen up her mug. “Do you want me to call Nina, then?”

“Nah,” Laura shook her head. “I’ve got it. I’ll call her in the car on the way.”

Nina and Frederick Fowler had been so inspired by their visit to the hunter facility that housed Deucalion, that they had spent the last couple of years working with hunters all over the country to improve such places. Laura and Derek liked to stay in touch with them throughout the project, as did Chris. 

Nina had gotten the support of multiple packs in North America to help them in their quest to perfect these facilities, and hunter-werewolf relations across the country had never been stronger as a result.

Lydia joined Jackson in the living room after he whined about his footrest leaving him with Erica, Boyd, and Laura. She pulled out her phone and shot off a few texts. She’d taken the lead on keeping in touch with the Kolb pack, and she and Jackson had formed a surprising friendship with the twins, who were thriving under their new Alpha.

“Target practice?” Allison asked Cora through a yawn, nodding towards the sliding glass doors to the backyard. Cora nodded and followed her outside to the archery range Derek had built for her when they rebuilt the house.

Derek, excited at the thought of getting to go to school and not having to be away from Stiles for four years, joined Lydia and Jackson in the living room to go over housing options. 

Stiles smiled at his retreating back and started tidying up the kitchen. He hummed to himself as he washed the dishes, and used the solitude to check on the pack bonds and the wards he’d set up throughout the territory and around the perimeter. Everything was working perfectly, as it had been every day since they had defeated the Alpha pack.

He lost himself in thoughts of the future, smiling to himself until he felt strong hands snake around his waist. 

Derek pressed a soft kiss to the back of Stiles’ neck. “What were you thinking about? You smell happy.”

“I am happy.” He leaned into Derek’s chest, letting his head fall back onto his mate’s shoulder. “I was just thinking about how we’re gonna get married someday.” He stopped when he caught a whiff of Derek’s scent as it sweetened with joy. “And how, soon after that, we’re gonna hear the little pitter patter of baby werewolf feet on the hardwood floors.” Stiles bit his lip when Derek dipped his head down to press his lips to Stiles’ outstretched neck. He held them at Stiles’ pulse point, breathing in blissfully.

“And how our pack is only going to get stronger from here on out.” Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. “It’s what you deserve, Derek,” he whispered fiercely. 

Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ neck. “What we deserve,” he corrected, his words slightly muffled.

Stiles laughed and opened his eyes, turning around in his mate’s arms, so close their noses were touching. “Ok,” he conceded. “What we deserve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't thank you all enough for your support over the last few months! I have loved each and every one of your comments, and your kudos mean the world to me.
> 
> <3


End file.
